World Famous Sugar Cookies
by Cassprincess
Summary: We know Puck and crazyass Berry. But in 2003 they were just Noah and Berry-pants. Cookie addict and cookie dealer. Best friends. This is how it all changed. And this is maybe how it'll all come back together. Flashbacks mixed with Season 1. :
1. Chapter 1

Hello Puckleberries! I've been thinking about this for a while. Hopefully, I'll be weaving some flashbacks about our favorite GLEE relationship through the first season roughly. I haven't written fic in a really long time, so I'm rusty! Let me know if you like it.

**World Famous Sugar Cookies**

**Chapter One  
**

***August 2003***

"YOU ARE A FREAKING ABOMINATION!"

Ms. Sokoloff, the youth activities director for the Temple Beth Israel-Shaare Zedek of Lima, Ohio hadn't meant to scream so very loudly. She should have remembered that such young people needed constructive criticism, not harsh yelling and pseudo-curse words. But it had been a very long summer for her after all. It had been the first summer that the temple had attempted a summer camp for the young members.

To be honest, it was Lima, Ohio. There were exactly fourteen Jewish families in their Temple and only four of those families had children. She had described the job to her sorority sisters at OSU as a dream job earlier that May. She scoffed inwardly. It _should_ have been her dream job.

Her harsh words were still echoing off the walls as she stared around the room at the frightened pre-teens. The 10 year-old-girl she had been trying to introduce was actually trembling in the front of the class, and Ms. Sokoloff could distinctly see the hint of tears brimming in the newcomer's big brown eyes. The twenty-two year old huffed and looked to the story circle where all of her anger for the past eight weeks had been undeniably directed at.

"Jesus, Suck-it-lots, are you on the rag or somethin'?"

Ms. Sokoloff's eyes narrowed into slits and she glared at the obnoxious eleven-year old boy, who was looking between her and the new girl with an absurdly inappropriate amount of cockiness for a boy so young. She tried to ignore just how inappropriate it was that the young Jew was taking the Christian Messiah's name in vain, but instead salvage the situation as the new addition to their summer camp was clearly petrified as she clutched a rather large white box in her tiny, trembling hands.

"Before we were so rudely interrupted by Mr. Puckerman's idiocy, I was going to introduce this lovely young woman to all of you. She and her parents have just moved from Cleveland, and we should all treat her kindly and build friendships in the final four weeks we have before you're all off to the secondary school," Ms. Sokoloff regained her sensible footing rather quickly. Increasing amounts of exposure over the summer to the son of evil had clearly given her the ability to rebound from violent explosions nicely. She actually managed a reassuring smile at the little girl who was looking at her with uncertain eyes. "Everyone, this is Rachel Berry…Rachel, would you like to tell the class a little about yourself?"

"I'm…I'm…"

Noah rolled his eyes as the girl in the front of the room clearly did not want to do show and tell. She didn't seem capable of speaking words in the English language. He looked outside, knowing that it was a beautiful day, not too hot, not too humid…perfect for at least six hours of basketball in the back of the synagogue. If little miss pink overall dress could ever get done with her boring him to death, he could be outside scamming the older kids on the court.

"Spit it out already!" Noah growled. He leveled a glare at the trembling girl and was surprised to see that all the tears that had been in her eyes had disappeared. His green gaze widened imperceptibly as she shot a laser-like glare his way. This looked like it was about to get interesting. Sure his ma called him a troublemaker, but he really did enjoy interesting.

Before he had time to goad the girl into a full-on tantrum he suddenly felt something heavy plonk against his forehead, blurring his vision for the slightest of moments as the box Rachel Berry had been holding rebounded off his head and burst open on the floor in front of him.

"My name is Rachel Berry!" Rachel shouted, all of her shyness at being in a new place with a lot of new faces disappearing completely as her rage fueled a confidence she had previously only felt when on stage. "I baked those cookies as a thank you for welcoming me so graciously into your community…but I realize that I'd much rather have rude, inconsiderate little pigs of boys CHOKE ON THEM!"

The other young children in the room looked between a dazed Noah and a piping and boiling Rachel as if it were the most interesting tennis match ever played. Jacob Ben Israel actually stood up, raising his hand as he stared at Rachel in intense fascination.

"Yes, Jacob?" Ms. Sokoloff questioned, eager to shift the focus off of Rachel and Noah's albeit hilarious but highly distracting behavior.

"Will you marry me, Rachel Berry?" the young boy asked, his voice breathy and deadly serious.

Rachel furrowed her eyebrows as a look of disgust etched on her face, but could not refuse outright, because Noah decided to start howling with laughter.

"Jacob, you dill-weed, you're totally going to have a restraining order by the end of the day, you loser!" Noah cackled. He looked down at the box that had busted on the ground next to him and pulled the pink ribbon that had been barely keeping it together at that point. He pocketed the ribbon and bent downwards as Ms. Sokoloff tried to get the group under control. He inhaled deeply and felt his stomach rumbling immediately.

"No way did you bake these," Noah said loudly, grabbing one of the perfectly shaped circles of sugary cookies that had light pink icing on it. He sniffed at it and actually felt his mouth water at the sugary and buttery treat. Sure he was a good Jew, but the thing smelt like freaking Christmas and everything! He crammed the whole thing into his mouth and his eyes bulged unattractively as he stared at this Rachel Berry character as she finally sat down, as far away from both him and Jacob Ben Israel as she could . "EFFIN SCHMIDT DEES ARE OSOME!"

Rachel watched in horrified wonder as the disgusting Noah continued to shove cookie after cookie into his mouth, muffled words of delight and ecstasy spewing out of his mouth along with spittle and crumbs. Before she knew it he had to have at least demolished a half dozen of the four dozen cookies she had brought.

"I did most certainly bake them," she finally replied haughtily. She shrugged and said, "If you had let me introduce myself properly, you would have learnt that I excel at very many things, but the top three are singing, dancing, and baking world famous sugar cookies. My recipe was featured in Ladies Home Magazine when I was eight!"

Noah rolled his eyes at her bragging tone and shoved another cookie in his mouth, "Whatever. Make more for tomorrow."

"You can't possibly think that after you ruined my first day in class, I'm going to bake you more?" Rachel scoffed. "Those cookies are world famous. They are a delightful treat that you should only get after you've earned them."

"I don't earn shit," Noah scoffed.

Rachel's eyes went wide at his cursing. They were after all in the _basement_ of a place of worship! She shook her head and insisted, "The only way you are going to get any more of them Mr…"

"Puck." He sneered, popping another cookie into his mouth.

Rachel squinted and saw his little name tag hanging from his neck and said, "Mr. Noah Puckerman…the only way you'll get another batch of those, is if you do something to truly deserve it. Believe me, I mean it!"

Noah sneered at her as she rose and walked away, staring down at the thirty-seven cookies he had left. He wondered if she was for real. You can't just throw a box of cookies at a guy's head one day and then decide he doesn't get any more unless he saves a puppy or something. That was just cruel. It was like what his Uncle Ben had talked about with his wife and their marital relations. Apparently he had to take out the garbage and make sure the lawn was in good shape every Saturday if he wanted to get his special treat.

Besides she should be thanking him with another batch already. His clever disruptions in class had made it nearly impossible for her to do that embarrassing introduce yourself crap that Suck-it-lots made all of them do.

He reached for another cookie and took the time to savor it this time. He didn't want to push his luck. He'd have to make these last if she was really going to cut him off already.

***September, 2009***

Noah Puckerman sniffed the air…he hadn't caught wind of that particularly delicious treat in quite a while. He looked around suspiciously, making sure that none of his peers would see McKinley's resident BAMF sniffing the air like a freaking greyhound. He turned the corner and there she was, the reason for all the pain, annoyance and hysterectomies in the world, pulling that obnoxiously pink trolley bag with one hand while her other hand clutched a large white bakery box with a pink ribbon tied precariously around it.

That was definitely it! He could smell those damned cookies at least a mile away. He stepped in front of her very suddenly, his arms crossed in front of him as he smiled down at her with more self-assurance than any other man in the world should possess on his face.

She was surprised at his sudden appearance, although she shouldn't be. This had been happening for the last six years. Ever since he had the first dozen of cookies crammed in his mouth, he was like a drug crazed addict. She squinted at him suspiciously and demanded, "And what have you done lately, Noah, to warrant the gift of cookies?"

"My sexiness doubles every hour on the hour, Berry," Noah said smoothly, raising one eyebrow at her. She didn't blush, she didn't giggle and she certainly didn't look very impressed. He shrugged and said, "I haven't thrown a slushie at you in like three months."

"We've been out of school for last three months, Noah! And Sokoloff would _murder_ you if you slushied me in the sanctity of the synagogue. Not to mention what your brilliantly violent mother would do," Rachel said superiorly. "I apologize if I refuse to be impressed by your amazing three month stretch of not torturing me horribly. But nothing you have done in the last six years have warranted you getting another batch of these cookies!"

"That's not true!" Puck countered peevishly. "I kinda remember having them loads of times in the last six years."

"Regardless, these are welcoming cookies for Glee club. An informational meeting is being held today, and Mr. Schuester is really bringing new life to the…"

"Spare me the really fucking boring lecture about that club, Berry," Noah groaned.

Rachel shifted her weight between her two feet rapidly, looking around at the deserted hallways before whispering, "I truly wish you would reconsider your stance on this…just think of how proud your mother would be if you started living up to your potential, Noah."

"I. Will. Never. Join. Glee." Noah intoned his words with as much vehemence and clarity as he could, hoping that just once, he would get it through her incredibly thick skull. She had been covertly trying to talk to him the past week, ever since those damned audition lists went up. She had even called his mother, and he was super pissed that he had to hear the nagging every night about doing something creative and constructive with that lovely little Jewish girl.

"If you would join Glee, I'd give you cookies for life," Rachel suddenly announced. "You're incredibly talented at the guitar, I've seen you playing it for the last six summers of my life, and I _know_ you can sing, because your mother has told-"

"SHUT IT BERRY!" Puck hissed. "NEVER."

He reached out a quick hand, hoping to snatch the box full of delicious goodies before she could annoy him into taking his own life. She actually made a growling sound that surprised the hell out of him as she maneuvered out of his grasp.

"You know the rules, Noah. No cookies unless you do a good deed," Rachel chirped, walking very quickly away from him. "And if you join Glee? Cookies for life."

Good deed…sure he could do a good deed. He walked through the hallway the next day, just as Rachel was checking out the audition list, probably hoping to see his name on the deathlist to loserdom. He felt his hand flinch slightly as she turned around and before she could even register what was happening, she was covered in the frozen red beverage.

He didn't listen to her shriek, he didn't listen to the accolades his peers were laying at his feet for another classic Slushey-ing. He just stomped out of the school, his badassness floating around him like some awesome effin' cape of badassity. He got to his truck and looked suspiciously at his front driver's side tire, where perched on top was the tiniest white box wrapped in a pick ribbon with a small note attached to it.

"Just a little reminder…Glee rehearses at 3:30pm on Wednesdays and Thursdays."

He sighed heavily. Now he felt like an ass. He ripped into the box, pocketing the ribbon absent-mindedly before popping a star shaped cookie into his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction and immediately forgot about Rachel's Glee quest, slushies and football. The cookies really were that damned good.

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Hello everyone! Thanks for the reviews and the lovely surprise of people signing up for story alerts. I had no idea such a thing existed, so I was really very pleasantly surprised to see my email box had gotten a little fat.

Here is chapter two! I'm going to try to stick as close as I can to whats been in the show while giving flashbacks and sort of missing scenes from the show. And just a warning, I'm sort of obsessed with Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford suddenly. They may be appearing throughout the story a wee bit more than they did on the show. (And honestly, what's not to love? They sing, they dance amazingly, and they grin like psycho idiots while they sing. Love them!)

-**Chapter Two **-

***August 2003***

"You look like a miniature crack addict."

Noah Puckerman squinted his eyes up at the sneering jab that had come from the sort-of adult who was getting paid ten dollars an hour by the Temple to watch him for the summer. His nose wrinkled in clear distaste at the usually perfectly nice young woman and obnoxiously stated, "You look like my Great-Aunt Myrna. Old…single…owner of six different cats."

Andrea Sokoloff rolled her eyes at the boy. He was going to be one hell of a handful for his poor mother once the hormones started to kick in. He had the uncanny ability to pick up on one tiny insecurity that a person had buried deep within. He then threw discretion and human decency out of the window and proceeded to flash the world's largest lighthouse beam at said secret insecurity. She hated to think of the countless teenage girls he would inevitably crush in the next six years. She looked to the door and saw the first of what she was sure would be his hundreds of victims.

"BERRY! YOU CAVED!" Noah shouted gleefully, jumping up from his spot on the floor and approaching the small girl who was carrying a large white bakery box tied with what he now assumed was her signature pink ribbon. He held his hands out eagerly and grinned self-assuredly, "I knew that you noticed I was being like…_super_ nice yesterday."

"You took apart my CD player and filled it with sand," Rachel reminded him with a surprising amount of patience as the boy in front of her continued to move his outstretched hands towards the box of cookies. She evaded his grasp and insisted very strongly, "This batch is for Ms. Sokoloff and the rest of the children at camp. You already ate four thousand calories worth of cookies."

"Are you calling me fat?" Noah asked dubiously. He pulled up his shirt and said, "You can see my ribs, woman! I'm not fat!"

"You are the largest idiot in the world," Rachel blushed as Noah continued to try and show off his admittedly scrawny upper body. She brushed past him, not realizing that she was fiddling with the lid to the box of baked sugary treats, wafting the smell towards the boy's nostrils, unconsciously torturing him.

"Now you're just being a royal bit-"

"NOAH PUCKERMAN! Time out!"

Noah rolled his eyes so hard he swore that he could feel them popping out of the sockets the tiniest bit as Suck-it-lots steered him towards the time-out area of the room. -Honestly, a time out? She should have just sucked it up and smacked his rear-end like his dad always used to when he was acting up. He sat sullenly in the corner as the other children of the lamest summer camp to have ever been invented happily devoured the treats Rachel had brought in. If he heard the word scrumptious and amazing one more time he was going to bum rush the whole lot of them and take the damned box that rightfully belonged to him.

But if he bum-rushed them and you know, _accidentally_ wound up popping that Aaron Mackery kid's face with his elbow, it would be all sorts of interesting and satisfying. What was that half-Jew doing talking to Rachel so nicely for anyway? He was going to be thirteen in a week and Rachel was ten years old! Why on Earth was she blushing? The idiot. All those cookie fumes have gone to her head. Aaron's just being nice to her to get the cookies anyway…

Noah simmered some more as the idiot blonde golden boy Aaron moved onto fifteen and sixteen year old pastures, taking more than his fair share of cookies as he went. Bastard. Nearly half an hour had passed since he had been banished to the corner of the room. Surely that had been enough repentance.

"Oy, Suck-it-lots!"

"Not my name, Noah Puckerbutt," Sokoloff contended, shoving a cookie in her mouth. She watched as she could literally see the boy's mouth watering and bit back a chuckle. She looked at Rachel who was steadfastly trying to ignore both Noah and Jacob Ben-Israel, who was literally standing two inches apart from the poor girl. That prediction of Noah's about a restraining order was most certainly going to come true eventually if Rachel was as smart as she seemed.

"We're freaking Jewish, not god-damned Catholics!" Noah howled from the corner. "Let me out of time-out!"

"Let me out of time-out, what?" Rachel suddenly piped up, spinning on her heel, her long brown pigtails flying around her head, inadvertently smacking Jacob in the face. Not that he complained. Instead, he reached out and grabbed at the locks, softly petting them.

Noah's eyes widened as he watched the freakish Jew-fro caressing Rachel's hair. Either she hadn't noticed or she was the world's second biggest freak. (Second only to Jacob, of course). Noah scrunched his face up in angered annoyance and his left eyebrow raised at the girl, wordlessly trying to alert her to the fact that her hair was currently being molested. Rachel was oblivious however as she only continued to glare at him.

"Really, Noah. I've met your lovely mother already. I'm sure she taught you the proper manners and words that you could use to punctuate your request," Rachel lectured cheerfully.

"Hey, don't go talking to my ma, all right?" Noah ordered. If he knew his mother, she was already picking out china patterns and wedding venues. He was eleven and she had been searching for the perfect Jewish girl for ages. And since it was Lima, Ohio, Rachel Berry had been the very first one to show up.

"Don't go talking to my ma, What?" Rachel goaded. Her condescending look quickly flickered off of her face as sudden surprise took its place as she felt her pig tail be tugged slightly as she had taken one step closer to pick on Noah. Surprise gave way to annoyance and then utter mortification as she saw Jacob pressing his disgusting lips to the ends of her hair. All of her words failed her and only a high pitched squeal escaped her lips as Jacob obliviously continued to kiss her hair.

"Jacob!" Ms. Sokoloff scolded.

Noah wrinkled his nose with anger as he knew that Suck-it-lots preferred method of lecturing would do no good here. He was out of time-out now. There was no question as he launched himself towards the offensive little creep and with a surprisingly steely gaze trained on a now nervous Jacob he muttered, "Let go of Rachel's hair, Jew-fro."

Rachel whimpered slightly as Noah cracked his knuckles menacingly. She looked like she was about to cry as her hair was simply molested by that irritatingly creepy boy. Puck looked at her curiously and his eyes softened, the corner of his mouth turning up ever so slightly in a reassuring smirk before he turned back on the offensive young man, the gaze back to angry steel as he repeated, "Let go of Rachel's hair, Jew-fro. _Please_."

Rachel squeaked again as Jacob did as he was told. She jumped away from the two boys into Ms. Sokoloff's waiting arms babbling, "Cut it off, cut if off!"

"I can't cut your hair, Rachel. Your dads would kill me," Sokoloff sighed, patting the girl's back consolingly. "We could wash it."

Rachel wailed as she held her one offensive and offended pig tail away from her. Noah flinched at the very, very, very, very, very LOUD sound coming from the tiny elfin girl and he glared at Jacob, annoyed beyond the point of human annoyance limits. Suddenly he launched himself at the freakish kid, his fists pummeling Jacob's side.

Andrea Sokoloff groaned, rushing forward to pull the surprisingly strong eleven year old off of Jacob before the boy's parents had enough reason to sue. She kept mentally counting down the days when she could go back to campus, away from this hell of Jewish pre-teens.

"Rabbi! A little help here!"

***September 2009***

Puck couldn't stop staring at the stupid lines on the world's lamest excuse for a sign-up sheet. Seriously, what was Schue thinking? If he was hoping to get any of the football players into the Glee club the sheet should have had "FREE BEER AND LAPDANCES FOR ALL WHO JOIN" written in neon letters. Hell, if he could just set up a beer tap and hallucinatory drugs next to the sign-up sheet he'd have a lot more takers. At the very least Marty the stoner and Will the recovering 15 year-old alcoholic would be waiting impatiently behind Puck at that very moment. Better yet, he should have a lifetime supply of Rachel Berry's World Famous sugar cookies sitting there. She could hand them out in a tiny apron and nothing else. -what the hell? He rolled his eyes and cursed his mother. Six years of the woman shoving good little Jewish girl Rachel down his throat had seriously brainwashed him. His mother could go to work for the CIA, he swore it.

"Dude…whatcha doing?"

Puck hadn't realized he had a pen gripped in his hand until he heard one of his teammates question him. He looked up to see an uncertain Mike Chang looking at him as if he had grown another Mohawk down his butt. He shifted slightly and shrugged looking at the list, knowing that his teammate probably expected him to do something stupid. He paused for a prolonged minute, thinking over his next action at a surprisingly fast pace.

_What's it going to hurt? You're so badass that it wouldn't matter if you joined homo-explosion. Besides, think of the benefits…cougars…stage moms…Berry's cookies…Berry's skirts...Jesus, Ma, get outta my head and stop talking about Berry's skirts for Christ's Sakes! Just sign up, you can groove out on your guitar and just watch the panties start dropping all over this town. Besides, the pools are going to be closed up for like, eight months, might as freaking well…_

"Uhm, Puck?" Mike questioned again, watching his friend extremely closely. The tall and lanky boy seemed to be fidgeting as he held his breath, watching as Puck clutched at the pen tightly while staring at the blank sign-up sheet. He felt he should say something but couldn't quite find the words.

Puck stepped forward very suddenly and started scrawling on the sheet. He stepped back with a slow smirk before handing the pen over to a confused and startled Mike. The token football Asian kid swallowed slightly as he stepped to where Puck had been staring at the sheet and looked up cautiously, not daring to believe that one of the coolest guys in the school had just signed up to sing and dance with the school's resident loser patrol. Because if Puck joined then he could _definitely_ do it too-

"Gaylord Weiner."

Mike sighed and gripped the pen tightly, knowing that there was absolute zero chance of anything changing from the norm at McKinley. He scratched the pen against the paper half-heartedly and walked away, as another teammate was quick to walk up and see if the two boys had actually signed up.

"HA! Chang wrote Butt lunch! Fuckin' hilarious dude!"

***August 2003***

The smell hit his nostrils even before she walked into the door. Noah looked up eagerly as Rachel Berry walked through the doors to the large multi-purpose room of the Temple's basement. His eyes widened gleefully as she carried an extra-large box tied up with a pink ribbon. He bit back his grin and tried to appear cool and aloof as she stood looking down at him curiously…almost shyly. Oh heck no, that wouldn't fly. He had known her a week and he _hated_ when she got shy. She was a heck of a lot more interesting when she was flying about all over the place, chattering about her opinions as if they were law. Shy was boring. Noah hated boring.

"Sup Berry-pants?"

"Pants?" Rachel wrinkled her nose in confusion. "How is that an insult?"

Noah scoffed and said, "I'm a first class ladies man, Berry-pants. Not everything I say is an insult!"

"Ninety-eight point seven percent of what you say is an insult. The remaining one point three percent is usually a harsh demand with no polite modifiers attached," Rachel shrugged as she spewed out seemingly scientific facts.

"You've been keeping track? I'm like…what's that word?" Noah wondered.

"Flattered?" Rachel offered helpfully.

"No. Creeped out." Noah smirked. He then extended his hands for the box that Rachel was still clinging to.

"Excuse me?" Rachel wondered, her temper flaring for a second at this boy's complete disregard for social convention and manners.

"Those are mine, right?" Noah gestured towards the large box of cookie goodness. "I earned it 'cause I totally made Jew-fro bleed."

"While I don't think violence is an answer to anything," Rachel began.

Noah laughed and said, "Berry-pants, Violence **IS** the answer. To boredom."

"Still, I was grateful that you got Jacob to stop molesting my hair," Rachel shrugged, her eyes rolling upwards as if she could see her hair coiled into a large, perfect ballerina's bun…safe and sound.

"Less yapping, more giving me my reward," Noah shrugged, letting out a contented and accomplished sigh when Rachel finally finished rolling her eyes and dropped the box into his lap.

"Please do your best not to choke on them," Rachel muttered as she walked away from the boy who had somehow managed to shove three cookies into his mouth at once. Her snide, slightly uncharacteristic comment surprised Noah and soon enough he was choking as he tried to his best to inhale the baked treats while suppressing impressed laughter.

***September 2009***

"What in the hell's an invitational?"

Puck shrugged at Azimo's question. He didn't get the lingo, but he did get why they were there. He had been wondering about Finn's whole prostate sickness ridden mother, an actual moment of concern had taken over his body like a freaking weird ass possession. Carol was awesome. She always bought the pizza rolls during the summer. Pizza rolls were second only to cook—dammit, stop thinking about the cookies. He was getting seriously close to becoming a crack addict with the damned things.

Anyway, he had even bought a get well card and was searching around Wikipedia in the hopes that he could write a semi-appropriate message. He was surprised to learn that Finn had lied, but he should have known as he saw who the stupidly tall doofus was standing next to in the lobby of Carmel High.

He had been surprised to realize that his best friend of nearly six years had filled the shoes Rachel Berry had wanted _him_ to fill at the beginning of the week. He tried to not feel the bitterness. He tried for just a split second to allow rational thought to form in his brain. His attempts were a complete and utter failure.

"Rutherford? Isn't there an outdoor sports store in this town?" he demanded, his voice low and nearly emotionless.

"We passed one at the bypass exit," Matt admitted, looking into the auditorium curiously, swallowing slightly at the sight of all the people who had come to see a choir sing and dance around. He furrowed his brow and wondered, "What are we doing?"

"Teaching Finn a lesson about what's important," Puck muttered.

***September 2009***

Puck heard the bass line of the song and groaned inwardly. He knew that was one of Hudson's favorites. Freakish giant man-baby. Finn was permanently stuck in 1980's power ballads and arena rock. He had tried and failed six years in a row to introduce the dude to cool new music. He wouldn't be surprised if the jolly green giant had huge hidden tattoos of all the 80's bands he worshiped.

_## Just a small town girl…_

_Living in a lonely world…_

_She Took a Midnight train going anywhere…##_

Freakazoid. He opened the door to the balcony of the auditorium as quietly as possible, as if it mattered. The music and the singing was so loud you couldn't even hear yourself think. Which he usually enjoyed, but only if it was blaring curse words and wicked guitar riffs on his ipod. Not this…

_##Just a city boy…_

_Born and raised in South Detroit…_

_He took a midnight train going anywhere…##_

Definitely not her. Puck looked down on as Rachel and Finn danced together on stage. He couldn't help but stare at the rag-tag group of losers on the stage. Who were they kidding? They could sing one stupid inspirational power ballad and then everything would turn out okay? High school would stop being a big bad bowl of snot, hurt and pimples for them from that point on? Hell no. Life was a bitch and high school was the biggest, hugest, most aggravating bitch of the whole damned ride. You couldn't talk to who you wanted to, you couldn't do what you wanted to and you sure as hell couldn't dance and sing around as if nothing else mattered.

But there Finn was, dancing around with Rachel, singing their stupid sappy hearts out. And she was freaking beaming a 2500 watt light smile at the seven and a half foot town moron as if she actually was enjoying herself. She wasn't supposed to smile like that. Not during the school year anyway. He walked out of the auditorium, eager to get away from seeing her grinning like a fool at his best friend. He stopped outside of the door and felt that his feet were glued to the floor. He couldn't move as he listed to them sing that song. He didn't even hear Schue clapping as his nebulous thought process took over his brain.

"From the top!"

Schue's insanely happy orders broke Puck out of his reverie and he shuffled his feet, ready to walk away and leave stupid Finn and stupider Rachel to their song and dance when Rachel's clear, too loud voice called out.

"Just one second…a quick break is in order. And a celebration. I was going to christen these 'Hooray we did our own number cookies who needs stupid Mr. Schuester' but in light of recent events, I'm renaming them to 'Hooray we are _totally_ going to take sectionals now cookies!' Grab some guys…they're my…"

"World famous sugar cookies." The rest of the club provided for her, although Puck could hear the rustling of the parchment paper signaling that the greedy bastards were chowing down on those cookies. He groaned and rolled his eyes. Damn Rachel Berry and damn her stupid Glee club and damn those stupid damned cookies.

*** Thanks for reading! Next up is Showmance and maybe a little of Acafellas!


	3. Chapter 3

Hello everyone! Thanks for the lovely response to the first two chapters. Here is number three! I hope that you enjoy.

-**Chapter Three**-

***September 2003***

"I miss Miss Sokoloff."

Noah looked to his right, where Rachel Berry had appeared out of nowhere, like the pinkest, smallest ninja of all time. He shifted as they stood in front of the busy school on their very first day at secondary school. Fourth grade. Nap time was officially over. Recess would be replaced with physical education classes. They would have lockers now, not stinking communal cubbies. Bathroom breaks would be taken between classes and no teacher would have to walk them there in a huge pied piper line of poopers and pee'ers.

Being eleven and in fourth grade and in secondary school freaking rocked.

"Oh look! It's Aaron Mackery!" Rachel announced cheerfully, her voice a chirpy, seemingly deadly weapon.

Noah cringed as Aaron ignored Rachel and walked into the school. That douchebag was the worst half-Jew to ever walk the Earth, Puck was sure of it. He knew that the kid would rather die than admit he knew two fourth-graders from Jew-camp. Noah rolled his eyes as Rachel made one small tiny hurt squeak before squaring her shoulders as she looked up at the big, scary school.

"Do you think we'll have classes together?" she wondered softly.

"Doubt it," Noah mumbled as he slowly began to amble towards the front doors. Rachel followed in his footsteps before turning very suddenly and waving with the hugest grin on her face at her fathers and Noah's mother, who was taking as many pictures as she could as the two walked towards their first day of secondary school.

"But? How could we not? I mean, you're my only frie-you're the only person I know here," she finished lamely. "And really, there aren't that many children here, do you think they'll need to split up the fourth grade that severely?"

"Severely?" Noah repeated quietly. He stopped his slow, torturous walk up to the front steps of the building and shook his head in a mixture of confusion and amusement. "That's the thing Berry-pants. You say words that I'm NEVER gonna be able to spell. Like ever."

"I don't see why that should mean we won't be in classes together," Rachel disputed.

"It's not grade school anymore, they gotta keep the smart kids away from the dumb ones, or else the smart kids will catch stupid and then everyone will be stupid," Noah explained.

"That's ridiculous!" Rachel huffed. "And you're not stupid, Noah. Sure in the past month you've given me a lot of reasons to think that you're not the smartest person on the planet, but you figured out all the guitar chords yourself in just two weeks in time for my end of summer show extravaganza and that displays a…"

"Enough, look, I sort of wish we could be in the same classes, but its not gonna happen," Noah admitted. "You're super smart. I'm dumb and lazy. You're going to be alone in class and so am I. But you gotta promise me something."

"Okay," Rachel said softly.

"Just…try to sort of blend?" Noah offered. He rolled his eyes as he saw his heartfelt advice go in one of her ears and straight out the other one. She was going to be toast by the time lunch rolled around. He glanced down at the bright pink trolley bag she rolled behind her and groaned, "I thought my ma told your dads to get you a real bag!"

"Posture is very important for me and my future in the dance world!" She disputed quickly. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "And I simply don't understand your advice, Noah. Blend? I don't know if that's possible…even if I tried my very best, which you know is—"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Look, I'll meet you down there at the corner after school and I'll walk you home, okay?"

Rachel watched as Noah walked towards the school with more speed than he had displayed before. She clutched the handle of her bag and turned her chin upwards as she walked towards the next milestone in her academic career.

***September 2009***

"Do you want to know a dirty little secret none of them want you to know?" Rachel glared around the class room filled with celibacy club members. She took the smallest of breaths and barely managed to keep her eyes on Puck for a fraction of a millisecond before aiming her words at stupid Finn. "Girls want sex just as much as guys do!"

And she turned on her heel, making that ridiculously short skirt of hers flare around ass the tiniest bit. Puck glared as Jacob turned around to question,

"Is-is that accurate?"

"Not for you dude. NEVER for you," Puck clarified before popping the ballon he had been fooling around with moments before in his hands, satisfied with the loud and obnoxious noise.

Rachel's little speech stays with him for the remainder of the week. She wants to have sex? Who the fucking with? And why hadn't he heard about this…oh say four weeks ago when they had plenty of damned opportunity in the basement of the temple? Suck-it-lots was getting to be damned near thirty and he was sure that the woman's hearing was going. She could have let _him_ play doctor. He was after all the most experienced and damned near professional sixteen year old doctor in Lima Ohio. Suck it Doogie Howser, M.D.

But he quickly realized that she hadn't wanted that. Not him anyway. The answer was clear when those curtains parted revealing Berry and her stupid Glee club along with the Paul Bunyan of the not quite so Special Olympics. Seriously...her skirt was ridiculously inappropriate for the dancing she was doing, he could see her fucking spank panties every time she lifted her leg, and-

Oh sweet fucking Christ. She was wearing god-damned knee pads. What the hell was she thinking? Did she even know what mental image came to every pea-brained mind in this school when they saw her in the knee pads?

And the pigtails? She had to have known Jacob Ben-Israel was sitting two rows in front of him. And he would take great pleasure in torturing her with the fact that she had just given Jew-fro the limitless gift of school wood to walk around with all day due to his unhealthy fascination with her hair in pigtails.

He watched as she rapped to a song _**he**_ had introduced her to four summers ago and fought to keep his face from betraying any emotion whatsoever. He just kept thinking about those Chinese stone soldiers from that Discovery channel special. He was a badass stone soldier…his face would always be this way…he would never, ever show weakness…oh God…Finn was rapping.

_Must not die from laughter-must stay as a badass stone soldier._

He felt his lungs almost explode as he desperately swallowed the chuckle that threatened to slip from his stony exterior when the Icecapades kid smacked Finn on the rear end.

-WHAT IN THE EFFIN HELL? What was she DOING? Was she bouncing up and down-oh God, he was going to have a coronary. He could feel a vein in his forehead bulging and pulsing as he felt rage course through his veins.

He was going to tell her dads. He was going to tell _his mother_. That would teach her a lesson. She had just simulated a sex-act with a Christian boy in front of the school. His mom was going to disown her and rip up the 2020 reservation she had for their inevitable (in her words) wedding.

The school erupted in applause, led by the seriously tent-pantsed Jewfro. Puck remained unmoving however and glared at Mike Chang as the boy had started to clap with the slightest hint of enthusiasm. Mike coughed and brought his hands roughly to his sides. They remained in the gym, waiting for Finn as the entire football team was supposed to be getting instructions from Tanaka about their first away game.

"Did you see Cadillac? And your sister from another mister?" Matt asked Chang excitedly.

"Dude, how many times do I have to tell you, just because we're both Asian, doesn't mean we're related," Mike explained with a surprising amount of patience.

"Whatever dude, same last name," Matt countered. "But still…wasn't it cool?"

Mike couldn't help but grin as he quietly agreed, "Yeah…I mean, did you see Rachel Berry? I mean, every time she bent her knees even just a little…"

"If you don't think about your next few words carefully…we're going to have a problem, Chang," Puck suddenly rumbled, causing the boy to jump slightly. He leveled a glare his friend's way and nodded when Mike mumbled an apology. Puck looked around angrily and wondered, "Where in the hell is Finn, dude?"

***September 2003***

"Remember boys, if you'd like to sign up for peewee football, stop by my desk and grab a permission slip and paperwork for your parents to fill out."

Noah couldn't help the small grin spread across his face. He had been waiting since he was like, three years old to play football. He couldn't do the mini-midget football league because his ma had told him it was way too expensive and completely useless. But now, he could definitely play football on the taxpayer's dime. It was going to be the most awesome thing ever.

He sauntered up to the front of the class as the end of day bell rang on his first day. He waited patiently as the other boys grabbed their information packets and eagerly looked at his.

"Dude…we're totally the McKinley Peewee Beavers! That's FUNNY!"

Noah looked up curiously at the declaration made by the surprisingly tall eleven year old Asian boy in front of him. He wasn't racist or anything, but weren't Asian's supposed to be like, short? He shrugged it off, chuckled and wondered, "What idiot came up with that name? Do adults even KNOW what we call Beaver?"

"Man, my mom doesn't even know that I know a girl has different parts than us," a young black boy commented.

"My mom calls it her bajingo."

Noah looked up, a ridiculous amount of amusement in his eyes at the freakishly large fourth grader. "No shit."

"Seriously. And she calls mine a pogo stick."

The four boys laughed riotously and Puck finally slapped the largest, slightly slow looking boy on the shoulder appreciatively.

"That's priceless…pogo…what's your name? Because if you don't tell me soon, I'm going to call you Pogo the rest of your life."

"Finn…Finn Hudson," Finn said quickly, definitely not wanting to be branded with that particular nickname.

"I'm Mike Chang," the Asian boy reached out a hand to Puck, grinning as he did so.

"Noah Puckerman…"

"Matt Rutherford," the black boy introduced himself. He shook his head at the sign-up sheet and said, "Seriously guys? The kids on the other teams are going to laugh their asses off at this name. What are we going to do?"

Noah thought for a second or two before a slow grin spread on his face, "We'll just tell them we named ourselves after our number one favorite thing."

The boys agreed wholeheartedly as they laughed their way out of the class room. They meandered their way around, stealing into the gymnasium for half an hour and playing a quick game of basketball. They parted ways at the front of the school, Matt and Finn heading north up the block and Mike and Noah heading in the opposite direction. They were discussing the newest Madden game when Noah suddenly froze in his tracks.

Mike looked at him curiously, wondering why he had stopped and why his new friend's body seemed to be stuck in place as he stared towards the end of the block. The eleven year old squinted in the direction Noah's eyes were glued and he saw a small girl sitting under a tree, her left hand clutching the handle of a pink trolley bag while her right hand furiously wiped tears from her eyes. Mike shifted uncomfortably and wondered,

"Is that your little sister?"

Noah could only shake his head no ever so slightly as he walked slowly towards the tree that Rachel had planted herself under due to his firm directions earlier that morning. Mike watched with interest as Noah plopped down next to the girl and was simply quiet as she began blubbering about her horrible day.

"And some girl named Santana Lopez said that I had MAN-HANDS! And her friends laughed themselves silly. And they took all the cheerleader papers and just laughed and laughed at me when I tried to explain to them that with-with all my years of training, and small stature I would be perfect as a tumbler or on the top of the pyramid. They called me MAN-HANDS! My hands are perfectly normally sized!" she sobbed as Noah simply sat cross legged in front of her, his face holding too many complex emotions for Mike to process with his eleven year old brain.

"You're hands aren't normal sized. They're like…miniature tiny midget people hands," Noah said softly. "They're smaller than anybody else's hands. Ever."

"I just-I just want to be in the same class as you. I don't care about smart classes or not as smart classes. I just want a…a f-f-friend!" Rachel wailed, her loud voice ringing out over the school yard. "And I was so scared that they had gotten to you somehow, and that…you wouldn't be my friend. And I was waiting and waiting and I thought for sure."

"I'm here though. I lost track of time, I'm real sorry, Rachel," Noah whispered. "Real sorry."

"S'okay," she mumbled as he grabbed her bag and then her hand. She felt herself being led away from her waiting spot. "I hate secondary school, Noah. I want to go back to summer camp."

Noah looked back to where his new friend had stopped in his tracks, having witnessed the whole thing. He shrugged Mike's way and Mike gave the tiniest smile and a wave back as he headed crossed the street in the direction of his house. He was the youngest child in his family, with four older sisters. He could understand being nice to girls. It had to be done, and it was embarrassing as all get out. But it **HAD** to be done.

It was the first and last time he had ever seen Noah and Rachel interact and he would never mention it again if he could help it.

***September 2009***

"Dude, what are we doing?"

Puck looked over at Chang and shrugged, "We have a party to get to."

"We can't head over to Quinn's without Finn, she probably wouldn't let us in if we showed up without him," Mike reminded him.

Puck rolled his eyes as they passed the auditorium. The sound of ridiculously high singing coming from a dude that had to be squeezing his balls together to get that sound coming out of his mouth wafted out of the auditorium. Puck shot a half amused, half annoyed look Mike's way and gestured towards the auditorium, "Looks like we found Senor Michael Bolton."

They shared a small laugh before Puck opened the door to the auditorium quietly, as Mike got out his iphone, ever ready to record one of their best friend's warbling. Puck felt his stomach clench at what he saw however. Rachel was sitting on the stage in some ridiculous picnic set-up. She was handing Finn a tiny cup that was perfectly her size, but looked really ridiculous in the hands of the beanstalk giant.

"Seriously, can't you talk to her about those skirts? They're going to wind up killing some dude," Mike whispered.

"We talked about you looking at her legs, Jackie Chang," Puck gruffly intoned.

"If you're talking to _me_ for oogling her legs, you should talk to Finn for-"

Mike's whisper drifted off however and Puck felt his world slip slightly as he watched Rachel and Finn kissing and rolling around on that stage. He felt that throbbing vein in his forehead and the rage that he knew was coming as his eyesight darkened. Mike reached out and closed the door quietly looking at a frighteningly blank Puck.

"Man, you should have told Finn…I _knew_ she was off-limits. Hell, I even told Matt, but Finn…I love him like a big stupid Of Mice and Men brother, but dude, he couldn't possibly have known! I never told him…I never thought he'd need to know he's been after Quinn Fabray since we were twelve!"

Quinn. That was his answer. That was the only thing running through his brain at that moment. Finn had just taken something from him. Noah shrugged off Mike's hand that had found its way to his shoulder and said, "Let's stop and see if the stop and save will give us some wine coolers before we head to Fabray's."

Puck was going to be taking something of Finn's now. It was only fair.

***September 2003***

Noah walked from the school, Mike Chang in tow. They walked towards the corner together, and as they got close to what Mike internally referred to as the tiny elf-girl's tree, Mike started saying his goodbyes to his friend as he walked across the street to his side of town.

Rachel peaked around the trunk of the tree as Mike walked out of sight and asked, "He's gone right?"

"Yeah, Berry-pants. I thought I told you," he smirked at her. "You don't gotta hide from my friends."

"I know that's what you said, but even if I've only just turned eleven, I'm still acutely aware that status in school is a really important thing," Rachel said quickly, her cheeks flushing.

"What's acutely? Are you calling yourself cute?" Noah wondered.

"It sort of means…very, like I'm super very aware," Rachel clarified.

"You're acutely Berry," Noah chuckled.

"Stop being nice to me," Rachel demanded. The firm control in her voice left no room for an argument. This was an order.

"What? You're my friend. Suck-it-lots accomplished her summer goal and made us friends in four weeks at Jew-internment Summer Camp," Noah insisted, shrugging off her completely insane demand. If he stopped being her friend, his mother would murder him, bring him back to life and then murder him again.

"That is a very inappropriate phrase, Noah," Rachel shook her head. She reached on top of her trolley and produced a white bakery box. "These are for comforting me earlier this week. I realize that I'm a very emotional girl…and I promise to control it in the future. I've discussed this with my fathers and we all realize that given the fact of my unusual family and big star personality, I'm never going to be the most popular girl…but I can't let them see me cry."

"Its okay to cry sometimes," Noah shrugged, grabbing her trolley.

"No, it's not. Crying will only let them think that I'm weak. And I'm not," Rachel insisted.

"I know that," Noah nodded, opening the box of cookies she had given him and shoving one in his mouth.

Rachel seemed to sense an opportunity as one cookie became two, then two and a half. She began talking very rapidly, intent on getting all of her ridiculously large words out all at once before he could chew and swallow.

"I was serious earlier. You need to stop being so nice to me. One of these days, Santana Lopez and the rest of the cheerleaders are going to see you and me at this corner, and they're going to tell everyone that your friends with what they consider the school's biggest loser. And you'll lose all the new friends you've found in the last week, and I just don't want that happening to you. You ARE a nice boy, Noah, and you deserve to have friends…but I shouldn't be one of them. Not at school at least."

Noah looked at her as if she had gone crazy. Maybe she had. He couldn't understand for the smallest fraction of a second why she would be babbly so crazily. Then he realized exactly what she was doing. He had seen enough buddy cop movies in his lifetime to know.

"You…you're taking a bullet for me?"

Rachel furrowed her brow and admitted, "I can't possibly know what you mean by that phrase. But I think that one of us deserves to be happy at school. It's clearly not going to be me. I'm okay with that. But you-you could be the king of this school and the school after that. And I don't want to make that difficult for you."

"You're my friend, Rachel," Noah said quietly as they slowly began walking home. "We only see each other before and after school. That couldn't hurt my rep. End of discussion. Things don't change. We stay the same."

Rachel flinched and watched as he continued to pull her trolley and chomp down on the cookies she had painstakingly baked for him.

"How come they're always circles? I mean…do you have other shapes?"

"Not really. Daddies don't really understand the concept of kitchen supplies. We have eighty-four restaurant menus in a file folder by the refrigerator and a lifetime supply of plastic cutlery and paper plates," Rachel admitted.

"Huh. Good to know."

On the next Monday, Noah walked out of school with Mike and his friend carefully took leave as they reached the elf's tree. Rachel slowly poked her head out and shot a smile Noah's way.

"Did those bitches lay off you for today?"

"Oh no, one cleverly came up with the nickname _Rupaul_," Rachel shrugged. "I now find it less hurtful and more ridiculous that these supposedly smart girls can't come up with better more accurate insults."

"Damn straight," Noah nodded. He handed her a white box, one of the boxes she had used to give him cookies in the last few weeks and mumbled, "Happy Birthday, Berry-pants."

Rachel couldn't help the large grin from brightening her face as she slowly lifted the lid to the box. She gasped slightly and whispered, "Noah…thank you!"

She pulled out the star shaped cookie cutter and turned it over again and again in her hand, marveling at the seemingly golden copper star.

"No biggie. I made it in shop class today. I look forward to a real thank you later this week with the first batch of star shaped cookies, ever."

***October 2009***

"I'll see you guys tomorrow…remember…think about relaxing and those hips will start to move for you!"

Puck rolled his eyes as Schue bee-bopped his way back to his office. He stole a glance Finn's way and couldn't help but be annoyed at how the world's tallest buffoon was grinning like sunshine was coming out of his ass. He was gathering his things when Finn looked at him curiously and demanded,

"So are you going to just give it up and join Glee with me, now?"

Like he would join Glee for the likes of Finn Hudson. He had been offered life-long cookies by Rachel Berry and he had still resisted joining. No way in hell would he be joining the teenaged, dumber Andre the Giant.

"I mean, Quinn and the girls are staying. They're all gung-ho with Rachel about this crazy expensive dance designer," Finn mumbled as he continued to get no response from his best friend. "Santana probably misses you."

Puck actually had to scoff at that one. They'd known Santana since they were eleven. She didn't miss shit.

"You know she broke up with me right? Over my credit score?" Puck reminded him.

Realization dawned on Finn and he nodded sadly. Puck rolled his eyes for the sixteen millionth time that afternoon before taking a deep breath.

Wait a fucking minute-he inhaled again. His gaze swept the room and he looked over on the piano to see a platter of cookies covered in saran wrap. Star-shaped cookies.

Finn followed his gaze and shrugged, "Rachel tried to bribe Mr. Schue with them so he wouldn't completely abandon us."

Puck tuned out at that point, he lifted the saran wrap and lifted one of the star cookies off the plate, staring at it intently. Yup. That was definitely his. One of the star tips had been slightly misshapen when he had created it in shop class at the age of eleven. She still had it. Maybe she still had all of them. He cleared his throat and pocketed the cookie before looking at his friend and saying honestly.

"We'll see how it goes tomorrow. Then I'll seriously think about it."

Author's Note: Next chapter will go through Preggers and probably Rhodes not Taken. : ) How many more days till Season Two again?


	4. Chapter 4

I can't even begin to say how absolutely overwhelmed I am at the beautiful response that this has gotten. It just proves to me that Glee fans are the best fans in the world. It also proves to me that Mark Salling will make a killing over his career if he sticks with these bad boy with a hint of a heart of gold. Because fangirls like me will do their very best to grab it up and make a million fanfictions about it. : ) Thanks again!

A note, Glee time is crazy wonky (almost as wonky as how I've split up the school grades here), so I have no idea when Preggers or Rhodes took place. Suspend disbelief to humor me and forgive me if I've gotten it wrong. Thanks again, again!

-**Chapter Four** -

***October 2003***

"Alright, here's the list."

Noah tried to keep paying attention to the dodgeball game that the fourth grade boys were playing during their communal gym period. It wasn't so hard though, the idiot of a gym teacher actually let them pick teams, and his team had been chosen by Matt Rutherford, they were stacked with all kinds of dodgy athleticism. He looked over to where a few of the fourth grade girls had parked their rear-ends on the bleachers. He looked around, wondering where Rachel was, and wasn't surprised that she was diligently power walking around the edge of the gymnasium, one of only two girls that were actually doing anything during the period.

He had dreaded gym class all year long, due to the fact that both fourth grade classes went together. Sure this meant more bodies to have more interesting games, but it really annoyed him that Rachel pretended she didn't know him at all during gym. Mike had questioned him about it but Noah had shrugged him off. He was a kid, he didn't understand how Rachel Berry's mind worked. At. All.

"So, Number Five, totally Karofsky. I mean, his Dad? Owns a car dealership."

Noah rolled his eyes as the queen bee of the fourth grade, Santana Lopez parroted her opinions out to the other girls as if her word were like, law from the lord or something. She caught him giving her a blank look and she smirked back at him before continuing,

"Number Four, Matt Rutherford. I think he's sort of cute and he's one of the best athletes. Which is totally important. Number Three, Mike Chang, have you seen his hair? It's shinier than the sun."

Noah smirked as he easily caught one of the balls that the other team had lobbed his way. He took careful aim and Jacob Ben Israel was out, and Noah errantly hoped the kid had a ball shaped bruise on his thigh. He turned to listen to more of Santana's mindless blathering. He totally couldn't wait to rib Rutherford about getting beat by Chang all because of shiny hair.

"Number two, without a doubt, Finn Hudson. He's almost as big as my dad already, and he still has to hit puberty! The kid is going to be like, an NBA player or something," Santana swore, giggling with Quinn Fabray. She cleared her throat and tried to catch Noah's attention again as she announced, "Number one with a bullet…our grade's alpha-male, hottest guy…Noah Puckerman. I mean, his eyes change color. That's awesome. And he's like…got this quiet bad boy thing going."

Noah furrowed his brow as he turned away from the girls. Bad boy? Quiet? Huh…this was new. He was too used to Jew-camp and Suck-it-lots calling him an abomination or the bane of her existence, whatever the hell that meant. He could be a quiet bad boy. And he could definitely be number one. He didn't know what alpha-male meant, but he'd have to ask Rachel about it after school.

"BERRY! You've got to be kidding me!"

Santana's shriek brought Noah back to Earth and he looked over to where the young Latina was currently fuming as Rachel attempted to speed walk past the pack of girls. Santana reached out and grabbed Rachel's shoulder, yanking her to a stand still. Puck couldn't help it, he began walking towards them, catching the dodgeball as he walked towards the edge of the basketball court to see why the hell that girl was physically assaulting the tiny midget Berry.

"The Jew is kidding right? I mean, it's not true Berry. No way could you have snagged him already," Santana said lowly.

"I-I don't know what Jacob's talking about," Rachel straightened her posture, her shoulder jerking Santana's hands off of her. "He's prone to delusional episodes."

"He said that he went to Jew camp with him this summer, and that you were like totally Puck's girlfriend. Is it true?" Santana demanded.

Rachel looked Noah's way for the briefest of seconds before leveling a very steady gaze back at Santana and saying calmly, "You should find a better source of information, Santana. I'm sorry to tell you that Noah Puckerman can't stand to look at me, much less spend time at summer camp with me…and much much less make me his girlfriend. Besides, I'm far too young to be thinking about boys in such a mature way. In time, my hormones will kick in and I'll begin to find boys attractive…"

"Oh god, stuff it, Man-hands," Santana peevishly ordered. "I asked for an answer, not an eight thousand page book."

"Your answer is this, Noah Puckerman doesn't know me, and I don't know him. We are very far from even being close to being friends," Rachel said resolutely, before turning on her heel and continuing her power walk.

Noah went back to his game, throwing the ball a little more vigorously than he been previously. The game was quickly over and they were told to go change and wait for the bell before the change of classes. Noah changed more quickly than he ever had before and walked back out into the gymnasium, pulling a small box out of his backpack and placing it on the top of Berry's bright pink trolley.

***October 2009***

"What's wrong?"

Puck looked up at the hushed whisper from the row of desks immediately to his left. He shrugged and tried to get back to pretending to pay attention. Suddenly a square of paper landed on his desk. He opened it up to see that she had anchored it with a penny so that it would have landed on his desk. Next to it she had scrawled in rotund print

_For your thoughts?_

Puck couldn't help but smile slightly. He scribbled something quickly and pretended to yawn, dropping the note on her desk inconspicuously. She opened it and shook her head.

_Pennies? Eff that. Give me a dollar._

She actually reached for her wallet and fished out a one, then wrote her note back and folded it again with the penny still there.

_Seriously, what's wrong? I can tell you're about ready to implode._

Puck stared at the paper intently, his mind racing in at least five different directions. And that was at least five directions too many. Like he could tell Rachel Berry, the girl his mother had decreed was sent from the lord himself to their family so that someday they could procreate perfect Jewish babies, what had gotten him in that particular mood. Hell, he hadn't even realized he had been in a mood, but leave it to Rachel to sense something. They had discovered her slightly psychic abilities the summer before eighth grade and he had been seriously freaked out by her uncanny ability to pick up on his bad moods since then. He was a badass emotionless rock. He didn't have any stinking emotions.

_You're off the mark this time Berry-pants. Stop projecting and shit. I'm just fucking pissed that Schue is choreographing our football plays. Besides, its you who should be the gut spiller. Not me._

Rachel stared at the note with a furrowed brow. He knew he had just written far too many words on one piece of paper. It had taken her seven days after they had first met to figure out that when he was scamming someone he talked a lot. And it had taken him less than ten minutes after meeting her to know that she got real quiet when she was scared. He hoped that she wouldn't push this. No way in hell would the words "I knocked up Quinn Fabray 'cause I was jealous you let Finn kiss you in the auditorium…" ever make it out of his mouth.

…he was such a royal fuck up.

He looked down at her crumpled note and opened it, ever wary that she would have just been able to psychically write down why he was so on edge.

_Schue gave a solo to Tina. He wouldn't even let me try to sing it. He hates me and I honestly don't think that I'm going to be able to stick around if he has it in his head that I'm some kind of fun punching bag that he can get his kicks deflating __**constantly**__. Anyway…you don't care about what's happening in Glee. What's really wrong with you?_

Puck stared down at the words. No. He didn't give one small rats ass about Glee. The words Rachel had been writing down actually seemed to blur before his very eyes. He did wonder errantly what was so stick up Schue's ass. First he hears that Quinn gets the solo to the 80's power ballad that from what he heard, Rachel sang the literal shit and piss out of. And now stuttering Tina Cohen-Chang? Letting her sing all alone when Rachel was around? It seemed pretty stupid to him, and he had just heard the news that he had impregnated his best friend's chastity queen girlfriend. He knew stupid when he saw it.

Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. Maybe he could just get a shot gun and blast all the damned birds out of the damned sky.

***October 2003***

## _If you wanna go and take a ride wit me_

_We three-wheelin in the fo' with the gold D's_

_Oh why do I live this way? _

_Hey! Must be the money!###_

"I love that song, it's my jam, dude. I was the baddest ass rapper over at Mapledale Elementary."

Noah smirked at Rutherford's boastful claim as they meandered down the hall after their last football meeting of the year. They had played six whole games against other peewee teams in the county and had done pretty well. The two of them had lingered at the meeting extra long, as the coach had bought them pizza and the coach's girlfriend had made a big sheetcake that looked like a football field, complete with little teddy graham football players and little straw field goal posts. Puck had eaten his weight in delicious pizza and cakey goodness and was now looking forward to the extra-long weekend due to the following Monday's inservice day. Columbus day...or Save the Seals day or whatever the heck it was freaking rocked.

Matt stopped in front of the classroom where the blaring music was coming from and shrugged, "Wonder what teacher is totally the most awesome teacher in the school?"

"Let's find out…" Noah suggested, yanking the classroom door open quickly and quietly. Berry was rubbing her bad ass ninja skills off on him, thankfully he didn't have to wear pink to access the power.

Both boys jaws dropped simultaneously as the blaring music enveloped them. They looked on in wonder as Mike Chang, who had escaped the football meeting claiming that he was lactose intolerant, was currently completely in a world of his own. His lithe body was moving nonstop in a way that was completely hip, cutting edge, and yet surprisingly graceful.

Yeah, his mom had made him take Rachel to see the Swan Lake Massacre (it sounded more awesome that way) in September at a nearby community theatre, and she had taught him all the words that corresponded with the dancing world. Whatever, he was still totally awesome, because he saw a million girls in like, next to nothing that whole damn show. The dude's junk in the tights he probably could have lived without.

But Mike wasn't a boring ballerina…he looked like he belonged in a kick-ass music video. He was in a zen-like world of his own as he danced along to the music, his body fluid yet skillfully jerky.

"Woah."

Matt's stunned reaction broke the spell and Mike looked up in shock. In half a second he looked terrified as he rushed up to the CD player, pounding on it until it spewed it out. He gripped it in his hands and began rambling,

"This isn't what it looks like…I mean, I was just bored waiting for you guys and its not even my CD and I don't do this stuff…like ever. Definitely not all the time, and I'm totally a cool kid, I'm not some kind of nerd that sort of took any kind of dance classes with any of my sisters, and I really…really…"

SNAP.

Noah felt super bad for his friend, whose hysterical outburst had resulted in him snapping the CD in half.

"Shit, my sister's going to kill me," Mike whispered, looking down in his hands at the destroyed CD. He looked up at his friends, the hint of tears in his dark eyes. "Please don't say anything."

"Why not?" Noah wondered.

His honest confusion at Mike's request went ignored. The young Asian kid turned around and burst into tears, instantly convinced that his social life and friendships were over. -Shit, he hadn't meant to do that. He was seriously wondering why Chang wouldn't want to show off his kick-ass skillz. Yeah, skills with a z was how badass that dancing had been. Matt shuffled his feet and looked to Noah for some help as Mike continued to sniffle, his body trembling under the weight of the sudden embarrassment and shame he felt.

"Boy's aren't supposed to dance," Mike said softly, his voice filling up the quiet room nonetheless. "My dad said so. But that didn't stop my mom and sisters from making me go with them. Taking me to the classes…the competitions…the recitals. I was bored and I wanted to see if I could do it. And I could…"

"You kicked ass," Matt finally spoke.

Noah looked around the empty classroom and realized where they were. Chorus room. Triple shit sundae that meant…

Rachel walked into the room cheerfully and stopped suddenly when she saw Noah and his friends in the room already. She usually spent her afterschool time there until Noah was done with practice, since it had gotten too cold for her to stay at her elf tree. She saw that Mike had turned around to face the other boys and was wiping tears furiously from his eyes. She looked to Noah for an explanation and he gave her a small smile before walking towards the teacher's desk.

"Sup, Berry-pants?" Noah said softly. He picked up the guitar that had been sitting next to the piano in its stand. He handled the guitar with the sort of expertise a much older person would have had. If Rachel had taught him anything it was 1) Despite what some fanatics may think, Soundheim was a much better lyricist than he was a composer and 2) musical instruments, whether they be a human voice or a set of maracas (_ha! shake those maracas_), should be treated with respect. He settled into a chair and maneuvered the guitar that was a little large for his still child-like frame. He nodded towards Matt and said, "You know that Black Eyed Peas Song?"

"Ohhh!" Rachel actually clapped her hands together as she walked towards Matt as Noah began to strum the guitar slightly. Noah had gone to great lengths to review the weekly top ten Billboard chart with her after he learnt that if he didn't steer her towards popular, modern day music, he would be stuck listening to and hearing about Cole Porter's greatest hits constantly. Rachel hummed a note to herself slightly as she figured out the correct key and Noah swore she could see music notes in her head as she began to sing,

##"_People killin', people dyin'  
Children hurt… you hear them cryin'  
Can you practice what you preach  
And would you turn the other cheek_"###

It didn't take long for Matt to grin like an idiot and join in. He sang pretty well, but Noah knew that on the walk home and all through his holiday weekend, he would hear a million and one tips from Rachel Berry on how best to improve Matt Rutherford's singing voice. Noah shrugged and looked to Mike, who was standing dumbstruck as the three other people in the room sang, or in Noah's case strummed. Mike's eyes widened as somehow Rachel sang the notes in a different way than Matt, causing the sudden pleasing harmonies to make goose bumps break out on his arms.

###"_Father, Father, Father help us  
Send us some guidance from above  
'Cause people got me, got me questionin'  
Where is the love_"###

Matt began to rap, his pre-pubescent voice still fluid and rhythmic. Rachel grinned and turned to Mike as she echoed some of Matt's words, like the world's pinkest most classically trained ninja backup rapper. And then she did something that would forever cement her as a cool chick in all three of the boy's eyes. She diffused the bomb as she shrugged her shoulders and swayed back and forth in a gentle rhythm. She reached for Mike's hand instinctively, and suddenly the shame he had felt for dancing alone in a dark classroom disappeared. Suddenly he had a guitarist, a really good rapper, a kickass cute elf-chick singing and asking him to dance.

It made his day. Heck it made the whole next year.

***October 2009***

"I can't believe it! We won! We haven't won a game since we were in sixth grade!"

Puck buried every single thing he had been feeling that whole day and focused on Mike Chang's exuberant celebrating in the locker room as they got dressed for a night of crazy ass partying. They were winners for the night at least, and he was going to go to Brittney's house where beer would flow freely all night from her football alumni dad's sweet ass lager tap. He didn't care what happened this past week, year, decade. He didn't care what was to come for the next million years. He was going to embrace this win and he wasn't going to let go until someone pried it from his cold dead hands.

"You were probably the best dancer, Jackie Chang. Also? That was a damned warrior block on that last play," Puck admitted as they strolled towards his truck in the parking lot. He watched as Mike couldn't help but grin with pride as Matt agreed enthusiastically. Puck threw his duffle in the back of the truck as Mike and Matt did the same. He walked towards his door when a flash of pink caught his eye from his front tire. He reached for the white bakery box and pulled the ribbon off, popping a cookie into his mouth without even thinking.

"Are those Rac-" Matt's words were cut short as Mike hit him on the back of the head authoritatively. They didn't say her name if they could help it. They never could tell how Puck would react.

Puck chewed as he inspected the next cookie and sure enough, they were the shapes of pumpkins. The second cookie cutter he had ever made for her after that gym class where he had been deemed the alpha male of the class. It was more like an uneven circle with a pumpkin stem, but Rachel always colored them in with icing to leave no room to doubt that they were indeed pumpkins. Attached to the box had been a slightly weathered note. He opened and saw the words they had written back and forth during history that week.

_Berry-pants? Do you think I'm a Lima Loser?_

He couldn't help the warmth that spread over his whole body at reading her response. It started in the pit of his stomach and went everywhere, like a shot of vodka, but instead of tasting like rubbing alcohol, it was all delicious and cookie flavored.

_Never. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever._

She had filled the rest of the damned sheet with "Ever's". At least a hundred ever's after a never. It made him want to pull his man-gina out and cry like a big fat baby. It made him want to shove it in Quinn's face and make her repeat it over and over until it got into her peroxide damaged skull. It made him want to go back to shop class and make a half million slightly imperfect cookie cutters. Instead he looked up and saw that Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury were chatting beside the Glee instructor's beat up ole shit-mobile.

"Schue!"

Will looked over curiously and smiled, "Congrats guys!"

"Yeah, thanks. Look…we're joining Glee. All three of us. See you Monday! We have to go get piss-ass drunk, now."

***Okay next up is Rhodes, promise. My weekends get kind of hectic, so I'll do my best to update with a chapter hopefully. If not, see you Monday!


	5. Chapter 5

Howdy! I hope that everyone had a fantastic weekend! Here's an extra long chapter (most of my chapters are kind of long. I get a little over-wordy sometimes, I guess). So this is The Rhodes Not Taken, Sugar Cookie style. ;) I'm working myself up to Mash-up...working for it. Thanks as always for the lovely responses!

-**Chapter Five**-

***October 2003***

"I give Man-hands a day before her robo-baby kills itself."

"I give it until fifth period."

Quinn and the rest of Santana's crew cackled hysterically as the bell rang obnoxiously, ending their home-ec class. All of the girls exited carefully with their tiny robotic baby bundles. Rachel couldn't help but stare down at her ugly doll and sigh. She never even had a fake baby when she was younger. They were always creepy with their blinky, glassy eyes and rubbery skin. She had preferred stuffed unicorns…still did if she was being honest with herself. And now, the idiots that were in charge of the curriculum not only split the girls into home-ec and the boys into shop class, as if it were 1953, but they also decided that rather than teach a legitimate sexual education course they would try to scare prospective teen-aged mothers straight.

She couldn't help but snort as she looked at the cheerleaders cooing over their babies. One of them was going to end up being that sad-sack pregnant girl by the time they were sixteen and Rachel promised herself then and there that she would laugh until her funny bone fell out.

"That's the ugliest thing I've ever seen."

Rachel looked up in confusion and gave a slight smile to Mike Chang as he stared down at her baby in disgusted horror. He tore his eyes away for a second as they began walking towards the cafeteria. Mike did his best to ignore the stares coming their way. He had unwittingly fell into the highest tier of popularity through his association with Noah and Finn, and Rachel was in very last place in the popularity contest, yet he kind of felt that she couldn't really give two bits to piss about it.

He couldn't fathom why the girls had decided to make Rachel the odd girl out. Why would anyone decide to crush the soul of such a nice girl? She sang like a freaking Disney Princess and picked up all of his improvised dance moves when they had jammed out that afternoon after football ended. He had never seen someone get so into it as they had gone through at least ten popular songs that afternoon. It was like when she sang she exuded cherry flavored soda, sunshine, huge-ass lollipops, rainbows and brand new Nintendo 64 games. Who wouldn't like that stuff?

"Mike! You have to get away from her, she's going to suck your will to live straight out of you!"

Mike furrowed his brow at Santana's shout from their table. He looked to Rachel who flashed a small, quick smile and nodded before walking away from him. Well crap. Now he felt like a grade-A turd. She actually seemed to have just consented to letting him walk away a winner. Mike sat down next to Noah, who was looking at him as if he were going to hit him a little and the Asian boy managed a shrug.

"The babies are creepy," Mike said quietly by way of explanation.

Noah picked up Santana's robo-baby and by the ankle and stared at it. His baby sister was turning two soon, and not to be a total girl about it but she was kick-ass adorable, she was never as ugly and scary as this robo-baby. The mechanical crying echoed slightly as Noah jerked the creepy ass pile of rubber and wires in a circle.

"Puckerman, you ass, you're totally going to make me fail the robo-baby assignment!" Santana shrieked, yanking her precious child from his hands so hard that the head fell off. She shrieked again and Finn punched Noah's arm in a congratulatory way.

Mike stood up as Matt was approaching the table and went for the baby's head. Santana was about to thank the boy when he started kicking the baby's head as if it were a very large, very creepy hackey sack. The rest of the boys quickly joined, leaving Santana to scream random insults at them and promise to ruin their lives for the rest of all time if they didn't stop.

Later that day, Noah walked up to the choir room and he heard the now familiar mechanical crying and rolled his eyes. He would make it his personal mission to destroy all the robo-babies by the end of the assignment if it meant he didn't have to hear the crying. He had dealt with incessant baby crying for two years and he didn't want to have to go back to it now. His hand was on the doorknob when he stopped at the sound of her voice,

##"_Good night my angel, time to close your eyes_

_And save these questions for another day_

_I think I know what you've been asking me_

_I think you know what I've been trying to say_"##

Noah couldn't help the small smile that spread over his lips as she sang the soft song. He couldn't help but think it incredibly stupid and yet sort of insanely, adorably hilarious that she thought her singing could calm a ROBO-baby. He continued to listen to her sing though, knowing that she sang differently when she was relaxed than when she was on stage. There was a calmness there that normally wasn't. Sure she could belt out anything you wanted her to and she'd do it with the hugest shit-eating grin on her face, but there was something different when she wasn't singing for a crowd.

He hadn't noticed that they had company and he furrowed his brow at the hand that was placed on his shoulder. He looked up and was slightly relieved to see one of the Mr. Berry's. Micah Berry, the white, super Jewish, Mr. Berry smiled down at him sympathetically. Oh shiz-nits. It was never good when an adult smiled at you like that.

"She has a bit of a Billy Joel fascination. It was the only thing that calmed her when she was teething," Mr. Berry explained. He opened the door and ushered Noah in just noisily enough that Rachel stopped singing and looked up with an automatic blush on her face as she cradled her robo-baby. "I have some news, children. Noah's mother had to go to Pittsburgh."

Noah's eyes widened slightly in recognition and he whispered, "Is pop-pop okay?

"He's not feeling too well right now, I'm sorry Noah, but he had a mild stroke," Mr. Berry said softly.

Rachel threw her stupid robo-baby down in an instant and was at Noah's side, her tiny hand gripping his, "He's going to be okay though?"

"He's going to be good as new in no time," Mr. Berry assured him. "But your mother is going to stay there at least a week to help him out at home, to make sure he doesn't over-exert himself."

"Good," Noah nodded. "But…Amber and me?"

"You and your little sister are going to stay at our house for the week, if you're okay with that," Mr. Berry announced. "I do have to tell you that if you say no, the other Mr. Berry and I would be incredibly disappointed. We haven't had a baby girl in the house since our little Rachel grew up into a beautiful flower..."

"Daddy," Rachel smiled slightly.

"I promise it'll be fun. And I promise we'll get pizza five nights out of the seven you'll be with us," Mr. Berry cajoled.

"Shoot, Mr. Berry, you didn't have to throw in the pizza. Your house is awesome. But just a warning," Noah said seriously. He grabbed the robo-baby that had fallen on the floor and made it dance slightly in his hands, "Amber is in a dancing and eating wallpaper phase right now. And she like…climbs like a psycho monkey."

***October 2009***

"The wheelchair kid's right. That Rachel chick makes me want to light myself on fire but she can sing."

Puck shut his mouth immediately, taking a sly look around the room. No one seemed suspicious. Except, fuck. Chang who was shooting him a sort of half smirk. Puck immediately started thinking of horrible Asian insults to put the nosy ass kid in his place. He wished he wasn't getting all Mr. Myagi on him about Rachel. Sure they had shared moments in front of Mike the last six years, but his little knowing looks and _knowing words _were really starting to get to him. Like, get to him in a way where he knew the only topics of discussion for the next week with Chang would be "Asian drivers suck" and "You're really good at math, right?"

Even if Puck's true intentions were clear as day to Chang, Puck's words didn't seem to penetrate Mr. Schuester's thick mane of Breck hair or his thick ass skull. Puck tuned everything out from that point on because this Glee shit? Totally wasn't what he thought it would be. Rachel Berry had actually freaking quit. He had not signed up for this.

Puck glared Schue's way and realized that Rachel had been right. The teacher who constantly tried to pretend that he crapped out sunshine filled crap biscuits and loved everything and everyone actually _hated_ Rachel. Like Schue hated Rachel with the fire of a thousand itchy STD's. What the hell? What had Rachel ever done to anyone in this club besides completely pwn their asses at singing and performing and Glee-ing? Crybabies. Every last one of them. And Schue was the giantest crybaby of them all. He was an adult and shit. He shouldn't be fucking his own club over because he had the need to break Rachel down.

And believe it, Puck had seen enough people try and break Berry down. He could see it a mile away…while rocking his hottest aviators and having his eyes closed. He packed up his stuff and was in his truck, his body on auto-pilot as he drove quickly to the Berry's house. He was at the front door knocking obnoxiously when the door was yanked open.

"Noah! It's a surprise to see you during the school year," Micah Berry smiled at the boy that had seemingly been a fixture in his daughter's life every summer the past six years. "Rachel's not here right now…"

"I know," Puck nodded. "I wanted to talk to you Mr. Berry. And the other Mr. Berry if he's around."

Michah smiled and said, "For the one thousandth time, you can call me Micah. And you can call Jerome, _Jerome_."

Micah gestured for Puck to enter and they both wandered to the kitchen. Micah investigated the fridge and pulled out a bottle of red Gatorade and said triumphantly, "We still have some left from the summer! I'll have to pick more up if you'll be visiting during the school year."

"Mr. Berry, Rachel quit Glee," Puck said quietly, taking the Gatorade and turning it over in his hands. "It sucks."

Micah sighed and nodded, "She told us, of course. And while I think it's a mistake, you know as well as any of us that when Rachel has her mind made up about something, it is next to impossible to try to dissuade her."

"I think our teacher kind of hates her," Puck admitted. "Like, he's jealous of her or some weird sh-stuff like that."

"Again, you know better than anyone…people take their jealousy of Rachel's talent or confidence and turn it into dislike," Micah said softly. "And usually, what has her reaction been to this behavior?"

"Stay quiet and take it forever," Puck said immediately, his voice had a hint of sorrow to it that he _really_ didn't like. He sounded like Noah. Shit, it was October. He had to start sounding like Puck soon or else all of the last six years would have gone to waste. Hell…he wouldn't mind that actually. But she would literally ninja kick his nads off and then Riverdance on them so that they could never be sewed back on.

"Yes, quite right," Micah nodded. "Right now, she's not taking it. She's distancing herself from it. I think, that as much as I liked how much she enjoyed Glee…I like the fact that she's taking a different course of action now."

Puck nodded and gulped a swig of his Gatorade. He understood and he could accept that answer right now. He swallowed, knowing that he never felt more comfortable talking about feelings and shit than he did with Micah Berry. He thought briefly of Quinn and the fetus-baby inside of her and had to literally pinch his own thigh in order to keep his mouth shut. He wasn't ready to have this conversation yet. Certainly not with one of Rachel's dads. He smirked at the man who had secretly been a major part of his summers the last six years and said, "Mr. Berry I'll never understand how you're the accountant and the other Mr. Berry is the psychologist. You've got the psycho-analyzing mumbo-jumbo on like, major lock."

***October 2003***

"I think that the robotic baby is easier to watch than Amberlee."

Noah smirked as Rachel dove towards the steps in the living room, although her diminutive body was in no way a barrier for the gigantic baby that was his little sister. Amber took a clunking step over her and was _motoring_ towards what Rachel deemed was a baby killer, the dreaded stairs.

"Amber!" Noah said warningly. The baby heeded the tone in his voice for a moment, looking back at her big brother with what could only be described as a cute-ass baby smirk that she _stole_ from him and went up two of the steps.

Rachel's fear of his baby sister dying from tumbling down the steps fueled her in reaching out and grabbing the exploring toddler, picking her up as best as she could. Noah couldn't help but chuckle as Amber squirmed around, making it very difficult for Rachel to keep hold, thereby nearly dropping the girl on the ground when she had been so desperate to save her from the stairs.

"What's so funny?" Rachel demanded haughtily. "You're watching the robotic baby like a lazy oaf on the sofa. I'm actually thinking of your poor mother and how she'd feel if her child tumbled down the stairs and got irreversible brain damage…much like her _firstborn_."

Noah rolled his eyes and fiddled with the wires that he had exposed on the robo-baby. There was no way in the world he was going to wake up to spooky metallic baby crying. It would give him creepy assed nightmares. He was attempting to fix the baby so that it would stop making sounds and would stop needing constant attention but still reflect a perfect grade. He errantly wished that Mike Chang weren't such a miserable failure of an Asian and actually knew something about science, math and robotics.

"Do I have something metal in my backpack?" Noah wondered as Rachel continued to struggle with Amber, who was like, three-quarters of Rachel's size. In a year, Amber could definitely take her in a fight. Especially if he coached her appropriately.

Rachel placed his sister on the ground and began to root through his bookbag, fishing out a small white box. She grinned and looked back at him and held the box in front of Amber as if it were a fun toy to be unwrapped.

"You didn't do nothing to deserve that, woman!" Noah complained. "I was saving that for when I really needed it!"

"Hello? Have we met? I'm Rachel Berry! Everything I do is deserving of amazing presents!" Rachel scoffed as she and Amber opened the box and discovered a new cookie cutter in the shape of a music note.

The girls marveled at it excitedly, even though Amber didn't really know what it was and Rachel excitedly shows her dads and they turn on the oven for her so that she can bake up a batch of her cookies right away. Rachel lets Amber help her, aka make a total freaking mess all over the place. And in an hour he's got warm cookies with icing that's still really wet and gooey and perfect. The Fathers Berry pop in Shrek and they have an awesome Friday full of warm cookies, cold pizza and hilarious cartoon hijinks.

It's a pretty damned fine Friday night.

***October 2009***

"Puck…dude. Come here."

Puck looks up from his sulking spot in the choir room and stares at a really jumpy Matt Rutherford. The kid looks like he's downed eight Red Bulls and a box of Dexatrim and like he has the worst ADHD in the world.

"What's up dude? Did Jackie Chang crash his car? No offense, Wheelie."

"None taken, I'm really getting used to it," Artie shrugged, in his own little world as he fiddled with his electric guitar.

"Will you shut up for five seconds and just listen to me?" Matt demanded with so much force that Mercedes actually fanned herself in the corner of the room.

Puck did as he was told, before his friend can emasculate him further in front of the rest of the Gleek's. Yeah, he knows the word emasculate. He just spent an afternoon with the Fathers Berry. His vocab had gotten a magical booster shot for a little. He followed Matt down the hall, to where Mike was stationed against the lockers in front of a girl's restroom.

"Uh, you can't go in here. I hope you can't because I'm pretty sure you're supposed to have a penis," Puck smirked.

"Uhm, Rachel ran in there, crying," Mike said quietly, gesturing towards the bathroom. He exhaled with hint of relaxation. He felt that now that Puck was here, he was off the hook and his duty was done for the day.

"Oh…shit," Puck muttered. He didn't quite know how to handle this situation, he certainly hadn't handled it well enough the last time. Rachel never fucking cried. And if she did, it was never at school and it was never in October. He hadn't been in this position in a really long time. Crying was for the summer, dammit. "Was she slushied?"

"Nah, just ran out of the auditorium and ran in there. Saw her on my way to Glee," Mike shook his head. "Can you…like, go inside?"

"I'm pretty sure they don't have anti-boy kryptonite on the door," Matt offered helpfully.

Puck stood there for a moment, at a complete loss of what to do. He wanted to go in there and find out what had made her cry. And then he wanted to take his boys, find the person that did it and mince their reproductive parts. He took a step towards the bathroom, when suddenly a tiny blond midget cut in front of him. What was it with these sexy ass midgets everywhere? Not that Berry was sexy or anything, she was just a midget. _Take that, Ma! I can totally form my own opinions about Rachel._

The three boys simply stare at the door for a moment, wondering what's going down on the other side of it. Little do they know but they're all secretly hoping that the young ingénue is letting the older cougar teach her about the healing powers of bi-curiosity. Finn approaches the threesome and wonders, "Why are you staring at the door? Is a girl pooing in there?"

Finn looks to the door in morbid, fascinated curiosity. As far as he knew, girls didn't poo, so maybe they were witnessing a magical first. Puck rolled his eyes, gripped Finn's elbow and led him down the hallway, Mike and Matt quickly following.

"You're our leader, right Finnderella?" Puck demanded.

"Uh…sure?" Finn wondered.

"Then why haven't you gotten Berry back in the club?" Puck asked angrily. "We suck without her, and its only a matter of time before that April chick goes to rehab or drops dead from all those horse tranquilizers that she pops like tic-tacs."

"Yeah dude, be a man and make us winners in something, since we can only win football when we're dancing around," Matt encouraged.

"Finn, you're like the closest thing that Rachel has to a friend," Mike lied convincingly. Hell, he considered himself more of a friend to Rachel, and they've only shared six sentences with each other in the last few years. "Get her to come back."

"Whatever it takes, dude," Puck insisted, pushing Finn towards the hallway where he was sure Rachel would be. He took a deep breath, trying like hell to stop the bad mood before it started. No such luck. He was fucking pissed. What in the hell had he just done? Sent the Waterboy out with a mission. A mission that maybe _he_ wanted. He had just handed Rachel Berry to Finn Hudson on a silver platter.

Mike patted him on his shoulder roughly and Puck shrugged him off, storming away, intent on getting the hell out of there.

***October 2003***

"Noah! Get over here man!"

Noah furrowed his brow as he walked towards Matt, wondering why the boy was hopping between his two feet as if he had to use the bathroom real bad. Matt didn't say a word, he simply _ran_ down the hallway until they reached Mike Chang, who looked like he had just seen a cute puppy run over.

"She's in there," Mike whispered, gesturing towards the girl's bathroom. "The singing tree-elf girl."

"Huh?" Noah squinted at his friend in confusion.

Mike blinked, realizing he had never actually said what he considered an affectionate nickname out loud before. Matt shook his head and explained,

"Rachel, dude. I heard that Santana took her robo-baby to hand in as her own. Rachel freaking lost it and Santana kind of ripped her into shreds."

Noah looked at the door to the girl's bathroom before mumbling, "Cover me, boys..I'm going in…"

Mike and Matt remained out front. Fifteen minute passed. They didn't hear a damn thing. They had no idea what Noah and Rachel were doing in there.

They did have to convince Mrs. Reeser that the bathroom was flooded with pee and vomit so that she would go to the bathroom in the second floor. And at one point, Matt stole Santana's book bag and ran in the opposite direction while Mike stood guard. Seven minutes later, Matt came back looking flustered and confessed that as punishment, Santana had _kissed_ Matt.

"What was it like?" Mike asked curiously.

"Freaking scary."

Nearly half an hour had passed and Mike was starting to feel sleepy, and Matt was still shivering in his spot at the memory of what Santana had done to him. Suddenly the girl's door room opened and Rachel Berry walked out, looking at the two boys curiously before nodding her head with the saddest small smile and walking away.

Mike and Matt waited another few minutes, and Noah was still inside. They couldn't help their morbid curiosity as they peeked in tentatively. Mike swore he heard a sniffling and suddenly he was inside the girl's bathroom, dragging an unwilling Matt by his shirt sleeve.

Noah was standing at a mirror and quickly wiped his eyes at the sight of his friends. Straightening his posture, he nodded in their direction and walked out quickly. He never said a word about what had transpired in the bathroom.

Never.

***October 2009***

"Yes, I am back in Glee club. In lieu of flowers, please send all donations to a socially conscious charity of your choice…"

Rachel pranced into the room and Puck couldn't help but turn away. Jesus Christ on Burnt Stale Toast. This was not good. Those fucking Gleeks were going to chat away about Quinn being pregnant…Rachel was going to know.

Be a bad ass stone statue…she won't notice you there. Her freaking creepy ass psychic powers won't kick in. She won't be able to put two and two together because, hell she doesn't know what the first two is anyway. He's going to be fine…she's not going to know. Like…ever.

He kicks himself for the next twenty-four hours. He had freaking demanded that Finn do his damndest to get Rachel back, and his stupid big fat trap has her quitting right away again. Shit. He's an asshole. For everything.

He picks up his house phone and speed dials number 2. Yes. His evil mastermind mother had programmed Rachel's cell phone into their speed dial. She had claimed it was all about last minute babysitting of Amber. Funny, he was the only person that used it. Evil genius Jewish mother.

"Hey…it's. You know who it is. Look…I'm not going to deny that April is a stone-cold cougar fox and she sings like super good. But…"

He pauses, staring down at his feet as he continues to pour his heart out to Rachel's voicemail.

"She's not you. No one could ever be you. Our invitational is tonight. I hope…I hope that if you don't want back in, you'll at least come to see me make a complete ass out of myself. I mean Brillo Head Schuester has us country line dancing like big gay cowboys on Humpback Mountain. Don't tell your dads I said that. See you, Berry-pants."

Thanks for reading! Next up is Vitamin D!


	6. Chapter 6

Hello everyone! I didn't think I'd post this tonight. I had an air conditioner disaster. I absolutely _hate_ being hot and sweaty, so a broken down air conditioner is by no means acceptable. But at least I've got a cool breeze right now while the roomie goes and buys a new one. When is it fall again? More specifically, Glee Season Two?

Also, side note, I'm totally following Mark Salling's twitter. Does he not realize that him missing his grandma sort of makes me want to hug him? And then the hugging leads to butt fondling. Sigh. Grandma lover and a lady killer. He should go all Pacey on Glee's ass. ;) Enjoy Chapter Six!

-**Chapter Six**-

***November 2003***

"Look, we have to play this carefully. Every single thing we do here, everywhere we go, we're being watched! You have to stay focused if we're going to get away without having to-BERRY-PANTS! FOCUS!"

Rachel's eyes were glazed over as she watched the wedding party enter. Slowly she turned her face to Noah's enraged one and she furrowed her brow curiously.

"Why are you so angry, already Noah? We've only been her for twenty minutes and you've managed to gorge yourself on tiny appetizers and I _know _you snuck a sip of my daddies' champagne. Plural. **Two sips** of champagne. There isn't any reason for you to be so cagey already."

"What's cagey?" Noah wondered as he began tying his napkin in tight knots.

Rachel sighed and looked back to the wedding party, and just like that Noah had completely lost her attention once again. He groaned at her very girl-like response to the lavish wedding they were attending. Suck-it-lots had managed to do it. She actually managed to get her Catholic boyfriend to walk down the aisle. She was in the process of getting her masters and he had just started teaching at Carmel this September. And despite all that, she _still_ had gotten him down the aisle. Hurrah for her. Noah would bet six months allowance that she had tricked her luckless husband with a fake pregnancy.

"She looks so lovely," Rachel cooed, watching as Andrea Sokoloff-Leonardo laughed with her husband.

"She looks like she's still going to torture us this summer," Noah mumbled, covertly adding sugar packet after sugar packet into Rachel's water goblet. The servers began to deliver dinner salads and the adults were soon back at the table with their champagne flutes and mixed drinks in hand. Score. Maybe they'd all get drunk and he and Rachel would have to drive back. She'd have to do the peddles. Her short stature meant that she was close enough to the ground anyway. He was totally steering.

"Get that gleam out of your eyes, Noah. I'm the designated driver," Jerome Berry laughed as the boy's face fell. He looked to Mrs. Puckerman and wondered, "Alison, how do you keep up with him? Too much energy and need for destruction there. I could prescribe meds...

"Daddy!" Rachel squealed. "I really wish you would stop trying to medicate my perfectly normal friend."

Alison Puckerman grinned knowingly, taking a long draught off of her champagne before raising an eyebrow Jerome Berry's way. Micah chuckled to himself as they all tucked into dinner. The adults watched as Rachel and Noah expertly split up their dinners. Noah got Rachel's chicken, while he scraped his rice on her plate. He gleefully gave up his vegetables only to have Rachel give him half back. He was about to protest when she gave him one simple exasperated look, and he mumbled tiny frustrated words before he scooped up the vegetable medley in one spoon and quickly ate them to get it out of the way.

"HA! You are going to owe me fifty dollars in about fifteen years, Dr. Berry," Noah's mother crowed happily.

Jerome turned his exasperation to his partner, but Micah was too busy being fascinated by the children who were chatting animatedly (actually, Rachel was chatting and Noah was nodding every once in a while as he gorged himself on the double meat helping).

Noah looked up towards the adults at the table, always suspicious when he heard them being overly joyful. He only had to see his mother's prideful grin before he sighed and said,

"You know, Ma, how when you really _really _want me to clean my room? You know that it only makes me completely NOT want to clean it, right?"

"Aww, sweetie-pie, I'm not making you do this. This? Is fate!"

***November 2009***

"What sort of performance enhancing drugs do you think they took? I mean, I'll have to consult Wikipedia. I admit I have a very good base knowledge of very many things, but drugs aren't exactly one of them. Kurt wasn't very specific…"

"Calm down, Man-hands. We'll just go to the school nurse, and ask for whatever the boys got," Santana dismissed Rachel Berry's hyper-active worrying.

"But-"

"It's from the school nurse, Rachel, she wouldn't give us anything that would hurt us," Mercedes waved her fears off. "We'll be fine."

"But I-"

"You do want to, to w-w-win, don't you?" Tina asked incredulously, amazed that the one person in the room that probably would _die_ if she didn't win, was actually having second thoughts. And third thoughts.

"I'm only attempting to-"

"We probably shouldn't go to the school nurse. She's tried to suffocate me with cotton balls before. I'm glad the stair gnome tried to kill her."

All of the ladies could only stare at Brittany's statement for a few silent seconds. Rachel huffed in exasperation before storming out of the classroom.

"Rupaul! Remember, Mercedes decided on yellow dresses for the costumes!" Quinn yelled after her.

Of course Rachel could remember the outfit! She scoffed at the head Cheerio's attempt at being helpful. As if she, Rachel Berry, who had choreographed and visualized the entire number would forget that Mercedes' oh so helpful suggestion had been _yellow dresses_. Her quick footsteps echoed throughout the empty hallways of the school. She arrived at her destination quickly and stared at the locker room door for the briefest of seconds before squaring her shoulders and marching in with her nose stuck in the air.

"CHICK!" Matt Rutherford squealed before diving behind a large waste basket full of towels.

"Awesome, locker room score!" Mike turned around, his eyes still abnormally buggy with the energy that the performance and the Vitamin D had given. His face turned beet red as Rachel Berry stared up at him with annoyance and anger. He secured the towel around his waist needlessly and whispered, "Shit."

"Please Mike, I realize that we're in your incredibly manly domain right now, but if you could refrain from poisoning my ears with the ridiculously horrid language, I would greatly appreciate it."

"Huh?" Mike wondered helpfully.

"Stop swearing!" Matt ordered from behind the safety of his bin of dirty towels. "And throw me my underwear."

"Ugh," Rachel shivered in disgust. She leveled her very best glare on a fidgety and embarrassed Mike and demanded, "Where is he?"

"Shower?" Mike gulped. He watched for a split second as she turned on her heel and walked towards the shower room. "Uhm…he's naked!"

Rachel didn't hear him as she stomped towards the only occupied shower stall. She cleared her throat as she approached, but Noah didn't react. She was soon standing in front of his door-less stall.

"PUCKERMAN! FOCUS!"

Puck jumped at least two feet straight up, landing down on his feet and nearly slipping to an early death in the shower stall. He froze, not daring to turn around completely, slowly turning his slightly frightened eyes towards the harsh, entirely familiar shout from behind him.

"What the FUCK, Berry?"

"Please, it's nothing I haven't seen before," Rachel rolled her eyes, although her gaze stayed firmly above his neck.

Mike and Matt exploded with laughter from the next room and Puck shouted out, "I'm going to kill you assholes! You couldn't keep her in the locker room?"

"What did you take?" Rachel demanded.

"You accusing me of wrongdoing?" Puck demanded, determined as all hell to keep his front side facing _away_ from Berry's gaze. Sure she had seen all the pictures his Ma had taken of his tiny naked self. But things were different now. He wasn't two years old anymore for one thing. And she would absolutely murder him for the nipple ring.

"Kurt squealed. The girls want in. I just need to be absolutely certain that it isn't dangerous in any way. If the chance that any one on our team could be hurt even by the smallest, most infinitesimal amount, I will blow the loudest, largest whistle you have ever heard."

"Jesus H. Fucking Christ, Berry-pants!" Noah could feel the water in the shower getting hot. Like ridiculously hot. He tried to attempt a glare the locker room's way, he _knew_ Chang and Rutherford were flushing the five toilets and urinals outside of the shower room in hopes that the water would get scalding enough for him to turn around and scar Rachel for _fucking life_. "Like I would let my boys hurt themselves. It was Vitamin D, as in decongestant. It wired them. It also helped that we each downed a can of Nos and then three cans of Red Bull. And then a Mountain Dew Slushie."

"It won't hurt us, even a little?" Rachel demanded.

"I wouldn't let them do it if it would, still I don't think you _need_ it," Puck said quietly. He winced as he felt the water pressure give again, knowing that _his boys_ had flushed another round of toilets. "You have to get out of here, because I need to turn around, my skin is fucking melting off."

Rachel's eyes went downcast all of a sudden, landing on Puck's naked rear end.

"Oh."

Her whisper seemed to echo. Puck could feel himself blushing.

-What in the hell? Why was he blushing? God dammit. He was going to stuff Mike and Matt into lockers…the black chick's locker. And then let her get hopped up on Vitamin D. Then let her have them. Little bastards.

"I-I gotta go." Rachel stammered, rushing from the room.

Puck waited until he heard the front locker room door slam before venturing towards the towels, drying himself and dressing as quickly as possible. He was out the door and had caught his supposed best friends outside at their cars.

"SHIT!" Matt shrieked again and the two boys scattered in opposite directions, eager to escape the wrath of one very annoyed Noah Puckerman.

***November 2003***

"Why hello! I was hoping that you could answer a few questions for me regarding the sparkling grape cider…"

Noah smirked as he edged his way towards the counter as Rachel continued to do as he had asked her to do. Annoy the bartender to death with as many questions as she possibly could. He promised her a cookie cutter in return…a flower one now that she was all wedding crazed. She had promised to accomplish her task, never even asking why he had asked her to do it. There's a true friend.

"But you see, my vocal chords are very important to me, and I'd like to know if there are any acidic ingredients that are main components…"

Noah reached his hands around the counter and grabbed two filled champagne flutes, securing them tightly in his fists. He tucked his hands under his suit jacket and very stealthily made his way towards the corner he had told Rachel to meet him at once she had managed to question the life out of the bartender. He waited patiently as he saw the bartender going red in the face as Rachel asked yet another question.

"PUCKERBUTT!"

Noah's eyes went wide and he looked up at a clearly wasted Suck-it-lots. She grinned down at him before leaning down and placing a sloppy kiss on his forehead.

"OY! THAT WAS DISGUSTING!" Noah bellowed.

"You are adorable. You remind me of my boyfri-fianc-HUSBAND!" Sokoloff-Leonardo giggled. She ruffled his hair and said, "You know, we went to summer camp together when we were thirteen. It wasn't Jewish. It was just regular summer camp. With cabins, and canoes and campfires…all sorts of c-words."

Noah rolled his eyes and tried to look inconspicuous as he hid the champagne from his summer camp counselor. He saw as Rachel had finally caused the bartender to order her away with a bottle of sparkling grape cider. She saw the bride cornering Noah and ran to meet them. She placed the bottle down before launching herself at Andrea Sokoloff, squealing,

"You're SO beautiful, Miss Sokoloff…I mean…Mrs. Sokoloff-Leonardo!"

"I'm going to call you Suck-it-lots for the rest of all time," Noah contended.

"Sure thing Puckerbutt,"Sokoloff airily waved him off. She grinned down at Rachel and asked quietly, "Did you bring it?"

"My dad's are going to go and get it very soon," Rachel promised with a grin.

"Get what?" Noah wondered cautiously.

"Oh, Puckerbutt, you adorable little rebel!" Sokoloff cooed, attacking his cheeks with sloppy kisses. "Promise to invite me to your wedding!"

"ACK! GET HER OFF ME! GET HER OFF ME!" Noah screeched.

"You sound like a howler monkey. I love it," Sokoloff laughed, releasing him and kissing Rachel's cheeks too. "See you two lovebirds later!"

"Woman!" Noah crowed after her.

Rachel rolled her eyes and looked a Noah's jacket suspiciously. His hands were curled under his jacket suspiciously and she wondered.

"What have you got there?"

Noah immediately forget his rage at Sokoloff and managed a small grin Rachel's way. He handed her one of the champagne flutes and said, "The best sparkling cider in the world."

"Noah…" Rachel said doubtfully.

"Live a little, Berry. It's like a rite of passage or something," Noah assured her. "Besides, if I drink this? I might dance later."

Rachel looked at the champagne flute with sudden fascination and sipped at it. She laughed when the bubbles tickled her nose. She grinned and said, "This is really very good."

***November 2009***

"Psst. Psst…"

Puck rolled his eyes, the low hissing didn't seem to bust through Berry's stony façade. She was sitting one table away from him the cafeteria, and he was desperate to talk to her.

"I know you can hear me."

Rachel rolled her eyes and absent-mindedly sipped at her extra-large turbo-boost coffee. She refused to drink Red Bull. It tasted and looked like urine. And the acidic content in the mountain dew slushie would waste her voice for a week at least. Coffee was the only thing she had consumed all day. That and chocolate covered espresso beans. She was bound and determined to level the playing field. Suddenly she felt a foreign object plonk against her head and looked down in her lap, realizing that Noah Puckerman had just thrown a ketchup packet at her.

She rose quickly and stalked towards his bench, tossing the ketchup packet with more strength than Puck thought she had, making his forehead sting slightly at the place of impact. She stormed out of the cafeteria and Puck took two long seconds before casually getting up and following her out.

"WHAT?" she spit out as soon as he exited the cafeteria.

"I don't think you need to do it," Puck said quickly, getting straight to the point. Knowing that she would ninja-kick his balls if he wasted her time.

"I don't want to cheat. I just want to make things fair. Obviously you boys think you need to dope yourselves insanely before a competition, and although I could have easily beaten you all single-handedly in a fair fight…there is no way I can carry the dead weight of my team, and come up with something to beat your idiotic grins, high energy singing and Mike Chang's popping and locking! For goodness' sake, Noah! He looked like he was a boy on strings! So please excuse me if I feel the need to seek out a little _help_ of my own."

"I didn't take any."

All of Rachel's caffeinated fury blew out of her sails instantly. She looked at him in cautious disbelief and demanded, "You didn't? But-"

"Berry-pants, you've been secretly training me like -the gayest samurai of all time," Puck reminded her. "You don't think I can do a ridiculously happy show face without the help of pills? Besides, I don't want my junk to shrink."

"Decongestants wouldn't-" Rachel began, but Puck quickly cut her off.

"Listen to me. Don't take it. You're hyper enough. You're good enough without it. I know its not like, crystal meth or acid or whatever, but I read the warning label. It totally speeds up your heart rate. Add that to the five barrels of coffee you've obviously had today...And your dad…Jerome, he'd kill me," Puck said softly.

"I can't believe you're the same boy who got me drunk when we were eleven," Rachel said softly.

"Believe it. And you were fucking awesome drunk."

Rachel nodded and was about to walk away before he grabbed her arm quickly and whispered, "Hey…don't uh-"

"I would never tell anyone of your concern for me, Noah. You know that."

Puck couldn't help the painful jab somewhere inside of his heart. He left go of her arm and managed a smirk, "I was going to say, don't tell your dads about the gay samurai comment. I need my red Gatorade in the summer."

***November 2003***

"Daddy…daddy…daddy….DADDIES!"

Micah and Jerome Puckerman's eyes widened simultaneously at the shouting of their daughter. She rarely shouted so obnoxiously in a public setting, but she was currently doing the electric slide with Noah at her side, the two children were rosy-cheeked and seemed to be having the times of their lives. Noah especially, because he still had not noticed that Alison Puckerman was snapping pictures so fast that she could probably use the photos as frames in a very fluid stop motion short film.

"It's time, its time its time its time its time!" Rachel squealed as the dance ended.

Jerome chuckled and left the table as Rachel and Noah continued to dance, this time to a Britney Spears song. Alison Puckerman handed Micah the camera as she reached for her video camera.

"Tango!" Rachel shouted her order at Noah.

He complied, only because he didn't want her to have a drunken tantrum. Besides, there was no one besides Suck-it-lots, his ma, and Rachel's dads that knew him there. No need to worry about his reputation. They swung around the dance floor, Rachel gracefully, and Noah at least technically proficient. Rachel had made him learn all the basic dancing during his week at her house.

"DIP!" Rachel ordered.

"Hell no! You'll barf on me!" Noah disputed.

"DIP NOW" Rachel demanded.

Noah did so slowly and couldn't help but laugh. Each sip of champagne had like, deleted words from Rachel's vocabulary. It was _awesome._

The music died down and the DJ started to talk. Noah didn't notice because he and Rachel were too busy dancing in their spots still. He felt a sudden push and looked up at Jerome Berry curiously, who was holding his guitar.

"Thanks Daddy!" Rachel cooed, taking the guitar from her father and handing it carefully to Noah. "It's time, it's time, it's time!"

Noah allowed himself to be drug to the front table, to the little stage where the DJ was set up. He sighed as Rachel took the microphone from the DJ and beamed at the whole room. This was going to be embarrassing.

"Hello, I'm Rachel Berry, and this is my berry best friend, Noah Puckerbutt," Rachel giggled, looking back at the sudden excited cheer from Sokoloff, who was even more smashed than she had been before. Her husband should probably be wondering about that whole baby thing right about now. "We love Miss Sokoloff…she's our camp counselor and the best counselor in the whole world. So we're going to sing a song now."

Noah rolled his eyes. This was why she had insisted they needed to practice at least five sappy songs the past month. He would eventually have to learn that there was always a reason behind every single thing that Rachel Berry did.

"You've got to sing Noah," Rachel whispered, as the DJ positioned a microphone in front of Noah's face. "Unforgettable."

Noah managed a small smile and wondered if there would ever be anything that he wouldn't do for her. Even after that absolutely horrible conversation they had shared in the girl's bathroom at school…even after they had effectively pretended they didn't even know each other at school…she could still get him to do the stupidest stuff.

##" _Unforgettable, that's what you are  
Unforgettable though near or far  
Like a song of love that clings to me  
How the thought of you does things to me  
Never before has someone been more_"###

It had to be the cookies. She was somehow drugging him so that she could do crazy mind control.

He sang a soft harmony as Rachel worked the room full of Jewish and Catholic wedding guests. He heard Suck-it-lots sobbing drunkenly behind them at the main table as they continued to sing

##"_Unforgettable in every way  
And forever more, that's how you'll stay  
That's why, darling, it's incredible  
That someone so unforgettable  
Thinks that I am unforgettable too_"##

Sokoloff's husband was yanked from his seat as his new wife demanded a dance. They moved slowly and stiffly from behind the head table, him cooing words in her ear that made her giggle and blush. Huh...maybe there was no baby lie. Maybe he just liked her. Weird.

##"_Unforgettable in every way  
And forever more, that's how you'll stay  
That's why, darling, it's incredible  
That someone so unforgettable  
Thinks that I am unforgettable too_"##

The crowd clapped and Rachel and Noah took their bows. She looked to him and asked, "Encore?"

Noah rolled his eyes and was about to say no, when Rachel plowed ahead anyway, going straight into another song.

Dammit. They weren't even getting paid for this.

***November 2009***

"Sup, Berry."

Puck walked out of the locker room and wasn't surprised to see five feet of yellow dress covered hyperactivity standing in front of the door. He looked at her warily, carefully evaluating her eyes.

"I didn't," Rachel said quickly, throwing a couple of pills at their feet. "Couldn't. You didn't cheat. So I couldn't."

"Awesome," Puck nodded slightly, looking around him. "Want to see something hilarious?"

"Okay," Rachel shrugged, following him down the hall. She fidgeted slightly and confessed, "I did do espresso shots like…all day, so I had caffeine on my side at least."

"I drank eight red bulls," Puck shrugged, stopping at the base of the stairs. They hid in the corner, with an excellent view of the hallway.

Rachel nodded and directed her gaze in the direction Puck was staring. They stayed quiet and unmoving for a long time, and Rachel couldn't help but wonder what they were doing.

"The performance was fucking sick by the way. You were…like stupid good," Puck mumbled.

"Thank you," Rachel breathed. She furrowed her brow as she saw Mercedes walking down the hall. She felt her breath hitch and the need to run over took her. She was about to rush up the steps, out of view, when Puck grabbed her hand. "Noah!"

Puck gestured towards Mercedes, who was accessing her locker. "Just wait…"

The young diva's shriek filled the hall…hell it echoed and reverberated throughout the school as two wriggling bodies fell from her locker.

"WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU TWO FOOLS THINK YOU'RE DOING? I'm all HOPPED up on Vitamin D and you jump outta my locker? Why the hell are you duct-taped together? ANSWER ME!"

Matt and Mike squirmed on the floor, looking up at the young lady in fear and trepidation. Mercedes reached down and yanked the duct tape off of their mouths. Matt was the first to speak.

"Cadillac, please don't hurt me…"

Puck couldn't help but laugh, and even Rachel failed at suppressing her giggle as Mercedes began beating Matt mercilessly as he flailed against Mike.

"For the last-time, Rutherford! It's MERCEDES!"

That's really the first time I tried to voice some of the other Glee kids. Can you guess who is my favorite besides Mike and Matt? I'll give you a hint. Starts with a B, ends with an rittany. Stair gnome. Heh.

Next up? Throwdown!


	7. Chapter 7

Hello awesome peoples! Thanks as always for the lovely response. It's greatly appreciated. Here is some Throwdown. We're getting into some heavier stuff here. A lot more will be explained about how Noah and Rachel became Puck and crazy-ass Berry. I tried to throw some humor in there, but there are some parts that made me a little sad, and I didn't want to force the funner stuff.

I hope you enjoy!

-**Chapter Seven**-

***December 2003***

##_"Silent night…Holy Night….All is Calm…All is bright…##_

Noah stopped strumming his guitar and Rachel snapped her gaze his way, definitely, 1000 percent in commander mode. He sighed and gave her a frustrated look and he would swear on a stack of his Playstation games that she had freaking lasers shooting out of her eye sockets. He began strumming again as Rachel finished the Christmas carol dedicated to the birth of the Christian Messiah. Some dude that they _totally_ weren't supposed to believe in.

"I'm telling my ma, you're the worst Jew on the face of the planet," Noah grumbled as Rachel looked at her reflection in a window, straightening her hair and her Christmas themed dress.

"She drove us here, Noah. I think she knew what we were doing," Rachel sighed in exasperation. "There is absolutely nothing wrong with performing Christian-themed music. God won't strike us down because we're spreading happiness and Joy to people that have a different faith than us."

"Jesus H. Christ, Berry. We're fucking Jewtastic!" Noah spat out incredulously. "It's wrong for us to be singing about the fat baby Jesus coming to save the world."

"It's also wrong for you to use the name constantly in such a horribly derogatory manner," Rachel snapped back. "A chance to perform is a gift. It would be incredibly rude of us not to accept this gift and give it back ten-fold with a lovely Christmas medley that will put holiday cheer into the hearts of St. John's Catholic Church parishioners."

Noah grumbled, mocking her words in the squeakiest voice he could conjure, "_Freaking Gift…stupid damned lovely Paris otters._"

Rachel had officially reached her limit; she reached out a hand with a speed that was seriously quicker than the speed of light, her fist gripping his bright red satin tie. She yanked him with a strength that belied her tiny size and brought his face within inches of hers, actually growling her words at him,

"Listen, Noah Puckerman. You are going to give me this lovely Hanukah gift and perform a Christmas medley tonight. And when your mother comes to pick you up, there will be a large box of cookies in the backseat waiting for you. If you grumble, growl, complain or even _breathe_ the wrong way in the next two hours, I will break your Playstation…your new cell phone…and your computer. I will then find a way to haunt your dreams every night and give you the worst nightmares ever recorded in the history of man. Do we have an understanding?"

"MAN-HANDS?"

Noah had a hard time recounting what happened next. All he knew is that using the leverage she had on him through her grip on his tie, he spun in a circle as she opened the door to the nearest confessional and shoved him in so that he stumbled backwards and fell on his rear-end.

"Christ on crackers, Berry-pants! What in the ever fruity hell?" Noah roared and banged on the door.

Meanwhile, outside of the confessional that Rachel was currently trying to imprison him in, Santana Lopez walked up to Rachel with a suspicious look on her face. Rachel's hands were behind her back, holding onto the doorknob of Noah's prison with a death-like grip.

"Who did you just throw in there?" Santana furrowed her brow as the pounding on the door continued. "I think they want out."

"No they most certainly do not," Rachel insisted strongly. She tried to paste a smile on her face as Noah howled impatiently on the other side of the door. "You look lovely, Santana. Are you enjoying the festivities?"

Santana was looking at Rachel with an intense look of calculation, as if she were trying to figure out an exceptionally tricky puzzle. She managed to shrug and said, "I like Church…it's like, pretty. And we get to sing carols during Christmas time, so that's fun."

"I didn't realize that you enjoyed singing, Santana," Rachel said politely. A passing stranger would have never realized that when the two girls were in school they were very much like a comical cat and mouse, with Santana being a ferocious, evil tiger and Rachel being a mouse caught on a glue trap. "I'm sure you have a lovely singing voice, after all, it's usually very telling that if a person has a strong speaking voice, they usually have a strong and clear tone when singing. Perhaps someday we could sing together and…"

"Santana! What on Earth are you doing out here? Mass will be starting soon…"

Santana's spine suddenly went rigid, and the amused, slightly annoyed expression that had been on her face quickly melted into a blank façade. She turned slightly and a dutiful smile graced her face as she stared up at a tall, Hispanic man, perfectly coiffed and dressed.

"Hello Daddy. I was just talking to one of my friends from school. This is Rachel Berry."

Noah stopped banging on the door as he heard Santana's greeting. _Friend_. Since when was Rachel Berry considered Santana's damned friend? If this was how Santana treated friends, he would hate to see how Santana treated enemies. She probably just clubbed them to death with baby seals that she had stuffed and lacquered.

"Hello and it's a pleasure to meet your, Mr. Lopez," Rachel cheerfully greeted Santana's father. "I must say you've done an exceptional job raising Santana. She's a true leader and a very smart and confident young lady."

Mr. Lopez simply stared down at the tiny girl, a look of recognition slowly crossing his face. He placed a hand on Santana's shoulder authoritatively and muttered, "Micah Berry's daughter. His daughter he shares with _another man_."

"Why yes, you're familiar with my Daddy? Are you an accountant too?" Rachel wondered. She would have continued to question the man, but stopped when she recognized the look on his face. No matter how many times she had been witness to it in the past, the look of disgust from strangers, the clear distaste and dislike. It was like being doused with extra strength cold water.

"Santana, we are going to have a talk about who you consider a friend. You clearly aren't able to make the right decisions," Mr. Lopez gruffly intoned. "And I'm going to have a talk with the activities director. A Jew singing Christmas carols is one thing…but the daughter of sinners singing praise to our savior? Is a mistake that should never be made again."

Santana had been looking down at the floor during their exchange. Rachel couldn't help but wish that she would continue to keep her eyes averted. She certainly didn't need the girl gloating at this point. Slowly, the young Latina's eyes drifted up towards Rachel. Santana's cheeks were burning red and she bit her lip slightly. A look of apology flittered across her eyes before her father forcefully yanked her away.

Noah waited less than one second before jerking on the doorknob again, which was surprisingly easy to open now that Rachel's strength had been literally sucked right out of her. He looked at her carefully as she tried to control her emotions.

"Please don't ask me if I'm okay!" Rachel said quickly, her voice high-pitched and anxious sounding.

Noah nodded dumbly. He hated it when he was on the verge of tears…well when he used to cry when he was a little kid. If his ma had asked him if he was okay, he would just cry that much harder. He stayed silent as he quickly went to the case for his guitar and packed away his things. He got Rachel's coat and placed it around her trembling shoulders and led her from the church wordlessly.

He hadn't wanted to hit an adult so badly since his father had left them.

And man, did he want to sucker punch Mr. Lopez in the face. A lot.

***December 2009***

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Quinn? Remember your place. I know you're all freaked out about the bastard child and everything, but being a control freak isn't going to help…I'm the control freak. And if you play with my toys, I'm going to wreck you as soon as you pop that kid out."

"San, I was just trying to stay on Sylvester's good side…I wasn't trying to steal your gig."

"Just remember…I'm the fucking puppet master, dammit. I've been pushing all of you idiots around since we were ten. Remember that. You have your sainted Mother Theresa giving a baby to rich people thing and your Queen Bee thing, and I have my toys. We had an agreement."

"Meoww…"

Quinn and Santana flew apart and quickly walked to opposite sides of the choir room. Puck threw Matt a smirk as the boys walked into the room, eager to watch a catfight. Santana had the best cat fights. It didn't matter what it was about, it was just hot as hell to see her rip into someone. Puck walked over to Quinn inconspicuously and asked softly,

"You okay?"

"If you would leave me the hell alone, I'd be fan-fucking-tastic," Quinn grumbled, walking away from the father of her child.

Puck took a measured breath; he knew he didn't deserve to be talked to that way. But he also knew that Quinn was all crazy with baby hormones and she had just been verbally trashed by Santana. Of course the bitch-on-wheels was going to try to get a little of her own back. He still hated it though.

"Do we really have to separate today, not that I don't appreciate the sense of competition and the ingenuity that this time apart will surely foster, but it seems wrong," Rachel announced as she walked through the door. She smiled at Finn, a questioning sort of smile to see if he approved of her train of thought.

Fuck that. What they hell did she need his approval for? Why was she so stuck on the anti-Mensa Poster child? The man actually thought sperm would survive in 100 degree water. He was officially in the guiness book of world records for most idiotic idiocy in the world. The Rachel Berry he knew, and hell yes he did know her, didn't need any fucking approval from any damned one.

He shrugged his shoulders in one quick, annoyed motion and he couldn't help but feel another pair of eyes staring at him. Creepy Asian eyes. And not the stuttering, cute Goth girl. _Chang_.

"Dude, stop menstruating," Puck growled at his friend.

Mike smirked and patted Puck's shoulders. "We could talk about it."

"I'm going to schedule you an appointment at Finn's mom's bajingo doctor. You're getting a hysterectomy," Puck promised.

"I've got an idea," Mike said suddenly, reaching for Puck's guitar and handing it to him.

"What the hell do you want, dude?" Puck demanded, taking the guitar nonetheless.

"You know what I want, don't tease me, dude," Mike batted his eyelashes, his audacity causing Puck to laugh, which had been what he intended. The young Asian man stood up as Puck began to strum and he wasn't surprised when everyone else in the room quickly picked up on the song. "HEY! HO! HEY! HO!"

Rachel looked away from Finn and rose from her seat very rapidly, her movements slightly jerky as she looked at Mike with a question in her eyes. He simply grinned as they all began the song.

## _If you wanna go and take a ride wit me_

_We three-wheelin in the fo' with the gold D's_

_Oh why do I live this way? _

_Hey! Must be the money!###_

***December 2003***

The sniffling had stopped. That was a good sign. Noah and Rachel were huddled together outside of the church, having skipped out on their performance entirely. He felt her shivering next to him. She must have only just realized that she was cold now that she wasn't focused on holding back tears. He put an arm around her hoping that his more manly heat would stop the shivering.

"Thanks," Rachel whispered. "For not making me talk about it."

"You should eventually. I mean, it's not good to just take stuff and smile about it. Mom always made sure that after Dad was being a major douche, she would take me out to Chuck E Cheese and let me throw skeeballs. Not underhanded, she just let me whip them at the machine. You should find something like that."

Noah took a deep breath. He swore that all of his words were eaten by Rachel Berry. He talked so much around her, the rest of his time he could only manage grunts. He didn't mind. It made the other kids at school think he was an awesome caveman bad boy.

"I sing as loud as I can sometimes."

"Yeah, I know," Noah nodded. "Want to sing now?"

"Not here…" Rachel chanced a look back at the church. "I hope your Mom gets here soon."

"She should be. She was just taking Amberlee to pick some stuff up at the store," Noah promised.

"Good," Rachel nodded.

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" Noah wondered.

"What good would that do? Talking about how Mr. Lopez made me feel won't change his mind about my parents or my existence. It's a waste, really. I just need to cheer up and realize that what he thinks doesn't matter," Rachel insisted, her chipperness increasing at each word.

"I still think…"

"PUCKERBUTT!"

Noah and Rachel looked at the adult rushing towards them and before they knew it, they were both enveloped in a strong, forceful hug. Andrea Sokoloff-Leonardo was squeezing the both of them so tightly that they immediately felt a little warmer.

"What are you two doing out here?" Andrea demanded.

"If we don't sit here, the church will explode," Noah rolled his eyes, although he smiled slightly as their summer camp counselor grinned at them. "Where's your old man, Suck-it-lots?"

"He's grabbing his little sister from the car. Something about the car leprechaun eating part of her seat belt," Andrea shrugged. "Aren't you coming in?"

"We were already inside the church. We performed and now we're just waiting for Noah's mother to retrieve us. It shouldn't be long now," Rachel said quickly.

"Well, will you two be at the temple for Hanukah? I could stand to listen to a few more fun performances!"

"Will you be plastered this time?" Noah wondered.

"Oh look, there's your mother!" Rachel said excitedly. She couldn't wait to get away from the church. She hugged Andrea again and gushed, "Of course we'll see you at the temple. I've already been drilling Noah on appropriate songs for Hanukah."

"I want to sing the Adam Sandler one, but she won't let me," Noah muttered with a smirk.

"Come along Noah, remember there are cookies in the backseat. Christmas tree shaped!"

"Jesus, woman. Did you forget we were Jews already?"

Rachel looked offended and insisted, "You made the cookie cutter!"

***December 2009***

"Do you really think Coach Sylvester will let us out of Rachel and Finn's Lame-fest?"

Puck looked to the girl sitting next to him and realized that he shouldn't have wasted his breath. Brittany was sweet. She was a pretty damned good kisser, not that he would ever try since Chang lost his shit the only time he had done it. She was caring of small creatures to the point where it was kind of crazy and weird. But she was _Brittany_. Asking her opinion on things…

"Did you know that my step-brother's wife was in Lame-fest 2001? She played the water glasses."

Puck nodded, his eyes wide as he took in Brittany's comment. Directly after their one and only make-out session, she had fished in her book bag for half an hour until she had found a tiny notebook in which she scribbled his name down. It had taken half an hour because her book bag had been filled with, literally, the most random shit on the face of the planet. What did the girl need a melon baller for?

"You have a step-brother?" Puck asked, cursing himself immediately afterwards. All he had to do was be a bad-ass stone statue and not talk, and then maybe Brittany wouldn't _talk back_. Silence would have been golden. Because 98 percent of the shit that came out of Brittany's mouth was high-larious. Funny only if you were seriously medicated or stoned out of her mind. The other two percent was usually pretty damned close to the truth.

"Yes…he's ten years older but I'm still superior to him. Especially in starting fires," Brittany revealed.

"Awesome," Puck muttered, staring at Sue Sylvester's office door. This was going to be a ginormous waste of time. He just wanted off of Schue's team. Being in the same room with all the white and non-handi-capable people in GLEE, namely Brittany, Finn, Rachel and Quinn was going to make him shoot himself in the face. Seriously. Rachel may have made him bury his bee-bee gun when they were thirteen in a message towards pansy-assed peace to the world, but he would dig it up, clean it off and Shoot. Himself. In. The. Face.

"She's tells me stories sometimes. About cookies. They're really funny."

"The fire? It's a pronoun now?" Puck muttered, his mind literally winded from confusion.

"No. Andrea. And I remember you guys before we got to high school, even though I went to Southwest. I puked that night cause I ate seven sugar packets and all the ranch dressing that was on the table."

"I'm really confused."

"You shouldn't be. It's a metaphor," Brittany smiled at him, her loopy eyes connecting with his and he felt suddenly like she was doing some kind of cracked out Jedi mind trick on him.

He had no fucking clue what they were talking about. And worse, he know felt dumber than he had ever felt in his fucking life, Brittany Stevens had just dropped a word he didn't even know. He tore himself from Brittany's amused and scary psychotic gaze and wondered, "What's a metaphor?"

***December 2003***

"I can't believe your mother is letting you consume that ridiculous beverage at such an early hour. You don't have a toothbrush at school. The sugar is going to feed all the horrible disgusting things in your mouth and you're going to wind up with eight cavities by the end of the day. There is absolutely no chance under the sun that your mother actually bought that for you. I'm calling her…"

"Berry-pants, chillax. I bought gum. Sugar free to get rid of the nasty sugar breath."

"It's hardly appropriate for breakfast. There are so many man-made chemicals and preservatives. They're going to addle your brain until you can no longer form correct sentences."

"Mmmm…preservatives good. Me want more preservatives."

"BERRY!"

Rachel's eyes widened as she and Noah approached the corner to school where she would usually force him to go on without her and she would stay behind her tree until he was nearly at the door. Usually. Today there would have to be a new plan, because Santana Lopez was barreling down upon her at lightning speed. And Noah was still standing next to her, his hand gripped on her pink trolley bag as he sipped lazily from his slushie, completely unconcerned about the impending disaster.

"I knew it! That was Puckerman at the church…what the hell are you two up to? What the hell is going on here?"

Noah rolled his eyes at Santana's drama. Good. It was out in the open now and Rachel would just have to deal. They were friends. Big freaking deal. He couldn't help the victorious smirk taking over his face.

He felt his hand that was holding the slushie jerking away as Rachel suddenly yanked at him. What the hell was she doing?

Rachel shrieked as the cold slushie hit her face and she immediately shivered at the freezing cold taking over her body on this already very cold day. He looked to her with wide eyes as she gave him one fierce glare and then grabbed her bag and ran towards the school. She blew past Santana, who was staring at Noah in shock.

"Did you just throw your Slushie in Berry's face?"

Noah looked down at his empty cup and then back up at a curious Santana. She didn't look happy, even after witnessing Rachel's INSANE, self-inflicted embarrassment. She looked confused and a little offended. No. He hadn't thrown it in Rachel's face. She had decided that rather than being seen as friends at school, she would rather humiliate herself and blame him for it. Puck threw his empty cup towards the trash can on the corner, not even caring that he missed and stalked away. Away from a curious Santana, a slushied Rachel Berry and school all together.

Santana vaguely heard the clearly upset boy mutter, "Fuck this," before he cut his very first day of school.

And there we go. Rachel gets slushied for the very first time.

Next chapter is Mashup and we'll finally sort of understand why our two little adorable children turned into the frightening teenagers. The next chapter will probably take a little while, so look for the chapter on Friday, not tomorrow. Thanks as always for reading! And I love getting the reviews and alert messages. You are the kindest readers! Ever ever ever ever ever.


	8. Chapter 8

Happy Friday! I was just finishing this up when I saw HeartforSoul's review. Update. You're like, a magic tree princess, HeartforSoul, because bam,here you go.

This was a very difficult chapter for me to do, it's Mash-up so obviously. I realize that it doesn't fit exactly within the show, but here we go anyway. I hope that you enjoy, and look for the next chapter by Monday. Thanks as always! All the US people have a wonderful 4th!

-**Chapter Eight**-

***December 2003***

Mike Chang waited patiently by the elf-girl's magic tree castle before the start of school. His imagination had been running wild ever since his mother had gotten him the Harry Potter books. He could see the tiny rooms inside the tree castle, which would seem hugely gigantic to Rachel, as she would shrink to her normal size once she was within the safety of the tree. She used magic when outside the tree to appear almost human sized to her classmates. And she also used magic to hide her elf ears.

To his surprise, as more kids began to approach, Rachel didn't hop out of her tree and magic herself to nearly human size. Instead, she crossed the street, the expression on her face not quite her own. He stepped forward and brought his hand up to wave at her and was surprised that she either completely ignored him, or was in another world altogether.

He followed her into school curiously, joined by Matt at the door. He watched as Rachel marched up to her locker and groaned when he saw Santana and her crew making a beeline for the elf-girl Princess.

"You have to do something," Mike nudged Matt.

"No. Way."

Mike rolled his eyes at Matt's sudden fear. The young black boy's eyes were wide with trepidation and he began to shake ever so slightly as Santana was approaching Rachel. Mike would have laughed if the need to talk to Rachel without Santana around wasn't so dire. He narrowed his eyes at his best friend and muttered, "Noah didn't come to school again today. We have to do something."

Matt shuffled his feet and whined slightly. "Why can't you do it?"

"Uhm, even if Satan-a thinks I have shiny hair, she's only interested in smacking her lips against you…don't ask me why. Girls are crazy," Mike explained. "DO SOMETHING!"

Matt took a deep breath for courage before rushing forward, towards Santana and her cronies. Mike thought his partner in crime would simply steal her bag and run away, instead he stood in front of her visibly trembling.

"WHAT RUTHERFORD?" Santana barked.

"PANTSED!"

And then all hell broke loose. Matt reached down and pulled at Santana's skirt, yanking downwards until the skirt hit the floor and Santana's Powerpuff girl underwear were on display for all the world to see. She screeched at the top of her lungs, so powerfully that even Rachel's eyes widened in respectful surprise. Matt stood in front of Santana for a mili-second, nearly _crying_, whether from fear or devilish amusement, no one ever knew. He then took off running, followed quickly by Santana's revenge driven friends and then, once she got her skirt back in its rightful place, Santana herself.

Mike walked quickly towards Rachel and whispered, "He didn't come to school today again."

"Who?" Rachel flushed as she placed her coat inside of her locker.

"Noah. He skipped yesterday…and now today? He's not sick…"Mike furrowed his brow in confusion. "And Santana was saying that he threw a slushie in your face, but I can't believe that."

"I have a stained sweater that could probably persuade you to believe it," Rachel said quietly.

"But Noah…he wouldn't do that to you, unless it was an accident," Mike said firmly. "You two are friends. We're all friends."

"Noah Puckerman and I aren't friends," Rachel said clearly before gripping the handle of her bag and walking away.

Mike sighed and went to find Matt, eager to help him get away from the rage he had purposely induced in Santana Lopez. He found his friend cowering in a dark stairwell corner on the basement floor. Matt looked petrified, but still had all his limbs attached, so Santana couldn't have found him yet. He handed his friends book bag over to him and wondered,

"Wanna skip and find Noah?"

Matt didn't need any convincing to skip whatsoever. He was very eager to put a few miles between himself and Santana for at _least_ a few years. The boys snuck out the back entrance and had a little fun pretending to be awesome secret ninjas. They managed to make it to Noah's house and knocked on the door obnoxiously until Noah's mail slot slowly creaked open and the boys saw a pair of greenish hazel eyes peek out.

"Sup, dude?" Matt wondered. "Let's play Madden all day."

"You guys cut school?" Noah wondered as he let his friends in quickly, lest they all get busted for truancy.

"Had to. Matt pansted Santana," Mike explained nonchalantly.

"It was the scariest thing I've ever done in my life," Matt whispered.

"Kind of like you throwing a slushie at the magic elf-girl," Mike mumbled.

"We're not talking about that," Noah said gruffly before the boys sat down to play their game.

At lunchtime they managed to completely demolish the microwave when they attempted to cook pizza rolls on a sheet of aluminum foil. They resorted to turning on one of the stove-top burners and placing bits of food on top of chopsticks and holding them over the gas flame. By the end of their culinary adventures, Mrs. Puckerman had eight half-melted marshmallows stuck to her ceiling as well as a chopstick or two.

Around three-thirty, Matt announced that he had to head home and erase the answering machine of any calls the school may have tried to make. Mike realized he had to do the same and the boys ambled out of Noah's house with a promise to see each other _at school_ the next day. Mike was walking away when he glimpsed something out of the corner of his eye.

Pink trolley bag, headed straight for the Puckerman residence.

They weren't friends. Sure. Like hell they weren't.

***December 2009***

###"_All my time is frozen motion  
Can't I stay an hour or two or more  
Don't let me let you go  
Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well_"###

Puck closed his eyes as Rachel sang the words to the ballad into her brush handle, her face staring back at her in the mirror, every phrase conjuring emotion in her eyes. It was his favorite song. She knew that. They had discovered it together while rummaging through Sokoloff's husband's music collection three summers ago. He'd rather rap the Bust A Move song himself than let her mash it up with his favorite song. Hell, he knew it was _her_ favorite song, outside of Broadway of course.

##"_Here's to the nights we felt alive  
Here's to the tears you knew you'd cry  
Here's to goodbye  
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon_"###

They remained silent as Rachel's clear voice still echoed off the walls of her room. She smiled softly back at him and he couldn't help but do the same. She held one thumb up and one down and asked, "What do you think?"

"I'd do anything. ANYTHING. If you wouldn't mash up our song with the old school rap song. Literally, anything," Puck said flatly.

"Our song?" Rachel whispered.

"Whatever, Berry…" Puck muttered. He leveled a glare her way and said, "You forget that we sang that nonstop three summers ago? Too much Finn in your brain."

Rachel looked back at the mirror, trying to fight the frown taking over her face. He sounded jealous. There wasn't any reason in the world to be jealous. Reason one: Finn was permanently attached to Quinn. Reason two: Finn did not like Rachel. Reason three: Puck couldn't possibly like her in that way. Not enough to get jealous. Everything was so muddled and confused.

She tried to work it through in her brain as she continued to stare at herself in the mirror, completely forgetting that Puck was sitting on her bed, needlessly tuning his guitar.

She wanted Finn. She wanted to possess him like a trophy to brandish over Santana and Quinn and Kurt. He was a goal. And she always reached her goals.

And it was December. Three weeks until Christmas break and the annual winter gathering of the Berry's and Puckerman's. They had three more weeks of staged animosity towards each other and then for a blissful week and a half, she and Noah could be best friends. It was too difficult to do at school. For one they were different people during the school year. It would be impossible to change that. They had hidden their friendship for so long, that to reveal it now would be a scandal.

_She_ had hidden their friendship. She had to remind herself that her exile from Noah's life throughout the school year had been self-imposed. He hadn't wanted it that way. In fact, he had fought her every step of the way at first. And then something broke. And he became Puck. And their friendship was limited to twelve weeks in summer and one and a half weeks in winter. It was what she thought that they needed.

She broke out of her reverie as Noah began picking at his guitar strings and singing a quiet melody. It was beautiful. The hummed notes became sounds and then formed words.

##"_Slight of hand and twist of fate_

_On a Bed of nails she makes me wait_

_And I wait without you…_

_With or without you…_"##

Rachel turned but didn't dare move a step closer, less she break this calm peace that had settled around them. She waited until he ran out of words and notes and smiled at him.

"That was lovely, Noah."

Puck shrugged and said, "I don't know that song that well…I forget where we heard it."

"The Friends marathon we had with my dad's last Christmas. It was on that show," Rachel reminded him.

"Oh. Yeah."

"You know…you should sing more solos in Glee. You're singing voice is just as good as Finn's, and although it's hardly a compliment, you are a significantly better dancer," Rachel admitted. "I can't understand why you constantly refuse the opportunity."

"Would me singing solos make everything different?" Puck wondered softly, hating the words as soon as they fell from his mouth. He sounded like a bratty kid. A bratty kid that was super-pissed and jealous that Finn Hudson was slowly taking away his favorite freaking toy. "You're all hot for him because he's your male lead, right?"

"That's not true," Rachel lied. She could feel a pink blush staining her cheeks and she turned back to the radio. His petulant attitude was infuriating her and igniting a curiosity that she hadn't known she had possessed. He _was_ jealous. "Finn is a nice boy. He's always been nice to me throughout school."

Noah placed his guitar on her bed and stood suddenly, his body feeling as if there was suddenly far too much rage coursing through his veins. He shook his head slowly at her and said, "No. Finn never noticed you until three months ago. He wasn't nice and he wasn't mean, he was just there. Is that your check-list for boy toys?"

"Let's not talk about pre-requisites for love interests, Noah! Because at last count you had _one _singular pre-requisite. Female anatomy," Rachel countered hotly taking one step towards him.

"Hey, I'm just playing the part. I'm Puck, remember? I'm an asshole. I'm a jerk. I'm mean to you. I throw slushies at your face. Isn't that what you've wanted from me for the last six years?" Noah yelled harshly. He had never been so glad that Micah and Jerome Berry had soundproofed her room. Sure her loud-ass singing still leaked out, but they definitely couldn't hear this heated exchange downstairs. "I'm only good enough for you 97 days out of the year, and the rest I'm a badass…"

"Yes, it really was my intention to make you into a juvenile delinquent," Rachel shot back sarcastically. "I had only intended for your social life to be clear of burdens. I hadn't wanted to hold you back, I wanted the very best for you! I didn't want you to blame me for the consequences."

"You took _you_ away from me. How can that be the best for me?" Puck demanded angrily. Oh shit. Those words weren't supposed to come out of his mouth. That was way too much Grey's Anatomy coming out in two single sentences. Silence extended between them as they both contemplated his words. That was really the only thing to focus on, because neither could bear with contemplating their feelings. He tried to look away from her as her eyes became watery and the angry crease that had appeared between her eyebrows slowly melted.

"Noah?" Rachel whispered, completely shell shocked at his admission.

"Let's just figure out this mash-up, Berry-pants," Puck whispered, going back to his guitar. For a smart person, Rachel Berry was a fucking idiot.

"I don't see how we can-"

"Just pick a song or something, you're a musical fucking genius. Come up with something," Puck demanded. He watched her as she turned to face the mirror once more. He knew it had been a fucking _terrible_ idea to come here. But he couldn't help himself. She had caught him off guard, text messaging him first thing in the morning. He had just had a dream about her for Christ's sake. He swore his mother was using voodoo mind tricks to subliminally plant '_you want Rachel Berry_" messages in his head.

It wasn't her climbing through his bedroom window that had gotten to him. It was that feeling of seeing her face in that dream. It had made him fucking deliriously happy. Horny too, yes, but happy. She was summertime and Christmas-time all rolled into one for him, literally. He absently strummed as she sang and he couldn't help but try to come up with a solution to all of his current problems. If he could just keep one stable thing in his life, everything else would fall into place. Rachel was his stable thing, but that was only 97 days out of the year. If he could just get her all year round, then everything else would get better.

She'd help him figure out how to handle this whole Quinn mess. She'd help him figure out how to explain human anatomy and the short life-span of sperm to Finn. She'd help him find Noah again.

##"_What a girl wants…what a girl needs"_###

Christ, he was a walking man-gina. Figure out how to get Berry? He had learnt one valuable lesson about himself during the times Berry wasn't in his life the last six years. One absolute zen-like truth.

###"_Whatever makes me happy, sets you free_"##

He wasn't an overwhelmed eleven year old anymore. He was Puck, dammit.

He was a freaking stud.

###"_And I'm thanking you for knowing exactly…what a girl wants…what a girl needs_"##

She was practically singing the answer to him. He could see her out of the corner of his eyes. She was singing the song to him in the mirror. Not Finn.

He knew exactly the one thing he had that Finn didn't. He knew the one thing that could maybe be the answer to all of his problems. He stopped strumming before she _really_ got into the song and put the guitar back down.

"My ears are starting to hurt. Can we take a break?"

She placed the brush back down and looked at him, curiously. She didn't know where this was going, but she didn't care. He had just spilled his guts out to her, she was going to let him have a little leeway lest she push him over the edge.

"You wanna make out?"

A little leeway.

She was surprised and her face betrayed her and actually showed the small giddy smile that graced her lips. Her mind screamed no, but her lips had an entirely different idea.

"Sure."

***December 2003***

"Alison? To what do we owe this surprise?"

Rachel's eyes widened slightly as she peaked her head into the doorway between the living room and the dining room. She couldn't help the pit of nervousness swirl in her stomach at the thought of Noah's mother dropping by. For all she knew, Noah had ratted her out about the slushie incident and she was about to get a classic _Jewish mother talking to_. It scared her to death.

"I'm so sorry, Micah. Can you watch them, just for a few hours…He came back for money."

Micah furrowed his brow and looked to Noah's angry, tear-stained face. He nodded and could only watch in vain as Alison rushed back to her car. Amberlee Puckerman began sobbing at the sudden absence of her mother. Noah lifted her off the ground and led her to the couch, where Rachel was now standing uncertainly. He sat down and cuddled his baby sister to him in an attempt to soothe her. Rachel sat down as well and hummed a small tune until the two year old ceased her cries. They sat in silence for a few moments as Micah went into the kitchen to make a quick, concerned call to his partner.

"What happened?" Rachel whispered finally as Amberlee began to doze off in her brother's arms.

"My dad came back. Mom didn't want us there," Noah admitted quietly, his voice completely devoid of emotion, his face staring forwards at a family picture of Rachel and her fathers that they had above the mantle. "I was screaming at him when she threw us in the car. Do you think…she shouldn't be alone with him."

"Daddies have it taken care of, I promise," Rachel swore.

"I'm so mad," Noah mumbled. "I'm so mad that I can't think of anything but…_mad_."

"That's okay. You can be mad." Rachel swore, reaching out and gripping his hand, hoping to relay whatever strength she could to him. She just wanted to make this easier for him. She never wanted things to be difficult where he was involved.

The children remained on the couch for the remainder of the night, waiting for something to happen, and at the same time hoping nothing at all would happen. Micah re-entered the front room eventually, bringing with them the takeout containers that had been their forgotten dinner. He started a movie up, hoping it would distract the children as he stood by the front window, anxiously pacing.

Noah didn't know how many hours passed, he knew that they had gotten through most of _The Little Mermaid_ and Rachel hadn't sung along once. But she hadn't let go of his hand either. And somehow, that did make him feel better.

"MOMMY!"

Amberlee shouted joyously and hurtled herself off of her comfortable perch between Rachel and Noah and flew towards the door, where Jerome was ushering in a disheveled Alison Puckerman. Noah rose uncertainly and his breath caught when he saw the definite bruise blooming over his mother's left eye. Rachel still held his hand in a death like grip as she stood next to him.

Micah ushered Alison upstairs towards the bathroom, and Jerome followed with Amberlee, leaving Noah and Rachel alone without even a word of explanation.

"I hate him," Noah said flatly, his voice thick with tears. "I hate his stinking guts. I hate him so much."

"I know. I do too," Rachel insisted strongly. "It's abhorrent to do such a thing to a woman…to your mom…"

"Why are you being so nice to me? You don't want to be friends, remember?" Noah demanded suddenly, trying to wriggle free from her grip.

"Noah, no. Please. You're my _best friend_," Rachel insisted. "I'll help you through anything, whenever you need it."

"No, you said we couldn't be friends…" Noah disputed miserably, clinging to anything to get the thought of his mother's black eye out of his head. His brain was having a hard time keeping up with the heady emotions. "You said!"

"At school we're different on the outside. But I'm always your friend. I wouldn't care, if you needed me…"

"Why can't I have a normal dad?" Noah questioned suddenly, changing subjects rapidly as he stared back at the Berry family picture above the mantle. "You have _two_."

"I'm a very lucky girl," Rachel nodded in agreement, squeezing Noah's hand. "You can share them with me. I wouldn't ever mind."

Noah sniffed and they sat back down on the couch, waiting for the adults to come back and explain. He nodded and whispered, "Thanks, Rachel."

***December 2009***

Mike walked towards the boy's bathroom, having heard about the great Puck Slushie Fiasco of 2009. There were a million different stories as to how and why it happened. Mike's two favorites were that after years of being slushied by Puck, Rachel got turned on by it, so Puck had allowed her to slushie him in some strange public sex act. The second favorite rendition was that Jacob Ben-Israel had flipped his lid when he had seen that Puck and Rachel were an item, and had declared war over his Rachel of Troy, unleashing five gallons of slushie upon Rachel's new boyfriend.

Mike didn't care either way. He and Matt had been literally on cloud nine for the last two days since Puck had gruffly told them that he and Berry were an item now. Mike didn't even care that he had lost the bet with Matt, he had them together as boyfriend and girlfriend by February. Matt had wisely and correctly chosen Hanukah, but only because he thought it was a Jewish romantic holiday, in his words _Seriously, it's a fucking bedroom holiday with all of those damned sexy ass candles._

It didn't matter either way. Even the sting of having to chose between football and Glee refused to affect Mike Chang. He'd chose Glee regardless. He was a way better dancer than he was a wide receiver. That was a no-brainer. And finally, Noah Puckerman and Rachel Berry were out in the open, not really showing their friendship, but they were making out and stuff, and that had to be better than what they had been subjecting themselves _and _Mike and Matt to the last six years.

"I feel like such a bad Jew."

Mike furrowed his brow as Rachel brushed past him at the door to the boy's room, a blush on her cheeks and a hint of sadness in her eyes. Oh shit.

"What the hell did you do?" Mike demanded angrily, storming into the bathroom. "Matt and I were going to throw a party this Friday, it was going to have a huge fucking banner that said, "FINA-FUCKING-LY! So how did you screw it up? Is this because of the slushie? Because dude, we will go and freaking pants the guy who threw it at you. It's not a big deal."

"Chillax, Jackie Chang," Puck rolled his eyes. "It's just…this thing right now with Rachel is…it's impossible, dude."

"You guys are together. Nothing is impossible," Mike insisted strongly. Sure he had another twenty-five bucks bet with Brittany that what she had deemed _Puckleberry_ would last more than a week. Brittany had bet that it would last five days because the metaphor was still stuck in a closet somewhere. But he also sort of…cared about, you know, whether his friends would be happy together.

"She's hung up on Finn, dude. And we still haven't, it's all kind of weird. She's not telling me why," Puck muttered miserably as he began to gather up the things he had littered around the boy's bathroom.

Mike bit his bottom lip and very suddenly asked, "What did you guys talk about that first time? In the bathroom when we were little…"

Puck slammed his wet shirt into his bag and violently tugged at the zipper. He shook his head and simply walked out the door, leaving a frustrated Mike behind.

***December 2003***

Noah was curled up on his couch at the Berry's. It was always were he crashed when he had to spend the night during the summer and the Winter holiday break. He had a velvety soft micro-fiber blanket, a shocking color of neon pink, pulled tightly around himself. Before he had shut his eyes, he knew what he was going to ask for from Jerome Berry for Christmas. He was going to ask for a more manly set of blankets. Yeah, Rachel got the best of both worlds with her dads. Hanukah _and_ Christmas. Spoiled brat.

"Noah?"

The young boy didn't stir as he heard the very soft footsteps coming down the steps into the rec room in the basement where he always slept at the Berry's. He feigned sleep as Rachel made her way over to his couch.

"I had a nightmare," Rachel whispered. "About your mom."

Noah nodded and scooted over and suddenly she was squished beside him on the couch. She had brought her own blanket and his sleepy hands helped to tuck her in.

"It'll be okay," he promised in a whisper.

Rachel watched him as he immediately went back to sleep, his face peaceful and calm. She stayed still and unmoving as she continued to stare, her heart aching for her best friend. They would be going back to school on Monday for the final week before Holiday break. She didn't understand how she would manage it. If he was hurt, or needed her, she'd want to be there.

But she couldn't. It would only make things worse. Noah was confused enough at her behavior.

She leaned her head closer to his and ever so slightly placed the smallest of kisses upon his slumbering, puckered lips.

"Sweet dreams, Noah."

***December 2009***

"You miss it?"

Noah looked up at the sound of her voice as she approached his spot on the bleachers. He managed a half-assed attempt, "Hell no."

"I hope you didn't choose Glee over football because of me."

Noah furrowed his brow. Of course he had. And she knew it. He squinted slightly against the afternoon sun. He knew what was coming now. He looked out and watched as Finn practiced with the team. Why was that doofus good enough for her? How was _he _not good enough for her.

"Why?"

"Because I don't think this relationship is going to work out," Rachel breathed, shocked at the words coming out of her mouth. It was true. This was the school year. They were both broken down inside. She had wanted it this way. Noah would be the king of the school, happy and carefree. That's what her childhood self had wanted for him. And one day…he would look back and realize what a great gift she had given him. But she could tell that he was angry, he had always been so angry and misunderstanding of why she was pushing him away.

"It's cool, I was going to break up with you anyway," Puck mumbled, his words laced with bitterness.

"No, you weren't," Rachel disputed, her confidence in him kicking in far too much for her liking.

"Yes I was!" Puck insisted, instantly falling into who he had become in the last six years. He wasn't summertime and Christmas break Noah. He was Puck, dammit. And that was never going to be good enough for her. "You won't even let me touch your boobs. It's Finn, right? He's never going to leave Quinn. Not with that baby in her belly."

His stomach rolled. He knew that they would have had to stop this experiment eventually. He wouldn't be able to tell her what he had done with Quinn. And he wouldn't be able to look at her face when she realized the truth. This was just prematurely ending what should have never happened. They should have just stuck to their 97 days.

"You like her don't you?" Rachel wondered. " I can see you staring at her when I'm staring at Finn. Is that why you joined Glee? To be closer to her?"

Puck swallowed deeply. That hadn't been the reason at all. His reason was a well-worn note stuck up to the mirror above his bureau in his room. A note with one never and a hell of a lot of nevers. He shook his head ever so slightly and spat out, "Like I said, they're never breaking up. God what's the matter with me? I'm a stud, and I can't even hold on to a chick like you? No offense. Why don't girls like me?"

"Because you're kind of a jerk. No offense."

Rachel was surprised by her own words. Yes. He was a jerk. They both knew it. 97 days out of the year, he was Noah. But today wasn't one of those days and he was simply a jerk. She hated it, but she knew that he was this way due to her own pushing him away.

"I just think you want it too much…which is something I can relate to. I want everything too much. Our relationship was built on a fantasy. Like every other one in my life. I think I just agreed to us being together because I thought it would make Finn jealous. I just hope we can still be friends."

Noah almost laughed before he bitterly spat out before storming away,

"We weren't friends before."

***November 2003***

"Berry-pants?"

"Please go away!" Rachel demanded harshly from the stall she had barricaded herself into.

"It's me, Noah. Are you okay?"

"GO AWAY!" Rachel shouted, her clear voice echoing off the tiled walls of the ladies room.

"I'm going to talk to Santana. She can't treat you like this," Noah said quickly.

"Don't you dare!" Rachel screeched, opening the door to the stall and staring at Noah with sudden fury. "She can't know that we're friends."

"Why the heck not, Rachel? It doesn't have to be a secret. Mike and Matt know, and they're totally cool with it!" Noah insisted.

"It'll just make things worse for the both of us. You have to understand," Rachel pleaded. "We can't be friends at school. Don't you know what'll happen?"

"Uhm…nothing?" Noah shrugged.

"Nobody is going to talk to you if they know that you're talking to me. No one else will be your friend. I'll have ruined _everything_ for you. You should just…just don't be my friend at school," Rachel pleaded.

"You don't ruin, shit," Noah insisted, suddenly very annoyed.

"Please don't curse."

Rachel's lecture came automatically, it was as if it were just a natural response. Noah furrowed his brow as he watched her attempt to compose herself. Minutes slipped by before a realization dawned on him.

"You don't want people to think I'm your friend…because you're ashamed of me? Cause I'm dumb, and my Dad left us and I'm poor…"

Rachel looked to him with wide and astonished eyes. Never had it once crossed her mind, but she could tell he believed his words. The cold anger coming off of him and the sudden knowledge in his eyes, he believed that she was ashamed to call him her friend. Nothing could be further from the truth. She was afraid that she would ruin his life. She had ruined a lot of lives. Her own real mother had wanted no part of her. Her father's had to relocate from Cleveland due to her presence. And the very last thing she ever wanted was Noah Puckerman to hate her for holding him back.

So she did the only thing that she could think of. She let him believe it. She did nothing to dissuade his sudden fear of _him_ not being good enough. She simply wiped at her eyes and made her slow way out of the bathroom, trying not to hear as the boy simply broke down.

######

Okay, song notes, Rachel is singing Eve6's "Here's to the Night", Puck sings U2's "With or Without You" and then Rachel sings, of course Xtina's "What a Girl Wants".

Thanks as always!


	9. Chapter 9

Hello, everyone! I hope those in the US had a lovely 4th of July Holiday. Here is a short chapter, but I hope you find it fun. It's much lighter than the last one (thank goodness. I can't handle or do sad very well). You'll notice a slight time skip here (in the flashbacks at least), due to the fact that really, Noah and Rachel's time together has moved to the 97 day format. So flashbacks will mostly be summer camp or winter holiday time.

I hope that you enjoy!

-**Chapter Nine**-

***June 2004***

"Puckerbutt!"

Noah tried very hard not to react in any way whatsoever to the excited yelling of his pet-name from his summer camp counselor. Instead, he slowly turned, one eyebrow raised in a perfectly practiced expression of annoyance, disdain and slight boredom.

"Suck-it-lots, how in the name of Abraham's left testicle did you get this job back? Doesn't the Rabbi take my complaints of sexual abuse seriously?"

Andrea Sokoloff-Leonardo's smile quickly faded and it was as if she was taken back a year in time. One year ago, Noah Puckerman was the reason she dreaded waking up in the morning. He had made her life a living, breathing hell for eight weeks in the summer.

There had been the mysterious case of all the under eight-year-old set eating a complete case of Elmer's glue. Then, there was the classic kidnapping of a local Methodist's Church central crucifix. A news report had claimed the overly large sculpture had been found poolside in an affluent couple's backyard, and the Jesus portion of the statue had been clothed in a poncho, fisherman's cap (which she had found fitting) and neon pink sunglasses. And of course, she couldn't forget the footage the local news had aired of she and her then boyfriend, now husband, canoodling up at Lover's Lane.

-Come to think on that, it may have finally pressured her husband to set a date for the wedding. She had her very angry Jewish mother to thank for that.

But there had been countless incidents where she couldn't quite blame Noah Puckerman for a criminally insane prank or misdeed, but she could certainly suspect no other person. Eight weeks of hell. Eight weeks of waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to literally poison her, or implicate her in a bank-heist.

And then Rachel Berry had entered with a box of delicious cookies. And Noah Puckerman stopped annoying the camp counselor and chose instead to annoy Rachel. That was until he realized he wouldn't be getting more cookies until he sort of straightened out his act. Also, Andrea had a sneaking suspicion that Dr. Jerome Berry was secretly medicating the rambunctious pre-teen. Either way, a new Noah Puckerman had been born.

However, from the looks of her room, where four hyperactive toddlers had obviously consumed their body weight in sugar, Noah Puckerman was back to being an evil devil spawn. The counselor looked warily at Noah, who still had that impeccable expression of evil on his face and asked breathily,

"What happened?"

"Oh, when I came in, it looked like the new batch of Jews had accidentally gotten into the Bingo night snack bar. I think Mrs. Mackery is going to have to go and buy more Swedish Fish," Noah explained nonchalantly. He smirked as he saw his sister zooming around the room, practically walking up the walls. Amberlee Puckerman was beyond wired, and she had just realized that the pipes in the corner of the room could support her body weight. Noah pursed his lips slightly to stop the amused smirk before he looked back to the person in charge and said with mock helpfulness, "Looks like you got a climber this year. Have fun with that, Suck-it-lots!"

"Wait, Puckerbutt, get back here-" Andrea called out, only to have her desperate words float unheard in the chaotic air of the synagogue basement. Noah walked out of the room, intent on finding some other fun mischief to stir up.

***December 2009***

Puck counted the money that they had raised on this epic day of the most epic bake sale to have ever epic-ed, baked or saled. This would shut Quinn's stupid mouth. $1251. Enough for the short bus and he could probably go to the quick shop and grab dip and a slushie or three. He looked to his right, expecting Mike to be sitting next to him in the stupid wheelchair and immediately cringed when he saw who had rolled up next to him.

"I liked the first batch of cupcakes better. The sawdust taste made me less hungry. I'm going to probably have to bounce for an hour to make weigh-in next week."

Puck simply stared at Brittany, knowing that if he interacted with her, it would lead to at least three hours of confusion and the need for extra-strength aspirin for him in the long run. He swore that after they had slushied Schue last week, Brittany had made the observation that Mr. Schue might contract red-dye number 4 disease and have to paint his eyebrows back on later and Puck had consequently lost brain cells from trying to figure out what she was saying.

"Where are the cookies?" Brittany wondered, looking around for the tub of cookies that Rachel had brought in especially for the sale, shaped like Christmas trees and candles.

Puck shrugged, trying not to speak or betray any thought in his head. The two tubs of cookies that Rachel had contributed to the sale were in his truck at the moment. Sure, he wanted to do a great job at the bake sale, but he hadn't had those damned cookies for at least a month. Hell if he was going to sell them three for a dollar to the greedy bastards of McKinley. They sure as hell didn't deserve it.

"Oh. I get it," Brittany nodded, even though Puck had yet to even acknowledge her presence. "I thought I had won it all, but now Mike might win the next bet. That's kind of bad, because I spent the rest of my allowance on Bump-its, red headbands and Binaca."

This finally fueled Puck to regain his sense of speech. "What the hell are you and Jackie Chang betting on now? I really wish you'd stop, or at least let me in on the action."

"That wouldn't be fair. You'd be like Axle Rose," Brittany waved him off.

"Pete Rose," Puck clarified.

"What's my cousin's trashman have to do with this?" Brittany furrowed her brow and looked at Puck as if he was stupid. And that only infuriated him more, because out of all the people to question his intelligence? The second worst person of all time would be Brittany. Number one, Finn of course. The dude thought the Trix Bunny was for real and set out bowls of the cereal in hopes of finally catching him.

"Can you bring me one of those cookies from your truck in time for Spanish class?" Brittany wondered. "Those cupcakes really made me hungrier."

"Hell no." Puck muttered.

"But Rachel made a lot, you can give me one," Brittany insisted. She looked to him hopefully and said, "If I make out with you, would you give me one?"

"Really, hell no," Puck's eyes widened, and he couldn't have been more happy for his response as someone else rolled into the cafeteria. Puck's eyes narrowed as Mike rolled up to the empty bake sale table, pushing his wheelchair obnoxiously in between Brittany's and Puck's. They were now so close that Mike's wheels had interlocked with both of their wheelchairs. Mike glared at Puck suspiciously, to which the mohawked boy held up his hands as if proclaiming his innocence.

Brittany grinned at Mike and then immediately pursed her lips. "You may win this time Mike. The metaphor is still there."

"What the hell is a -"

"Awesome, I was going to have to sell some of my video games in order to have Christmas money," Mike grinned gleefully, looking at Puck. "Hey, did you sell all of Rachel's cookies too? I'm starving."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about Long Duk Dong," Puck coolly stated, closing the cash box, minus the extra fifty-one dollars he was going to claim as his own due to the starting cash he had put out for supplies.

"Uhm, I held the door for her today, and I saw the eight dozen Christmas trees and Candles. They looked cookie-licious. I want one," Mike sneered at his friend.

"You don't get any!" Puck glared, not at all feeling like the possessive toddler he actually sounded like.

"That's unfair. Rachel totally sacrificed her free time-"

"Which I've heard is when she does rituals to her shrines of celebrities that are under five feet tall," Brittany interjected dreamily.

"And she expected those cookies to help out Artie," Mike finished smoothly, not the least bit affected by Brittany's helpful interjections. "And you just stole them…Rutherford _saw_ you taking the containers to your truck, and I bet you didn't even pay for them…"

"FINE, fine! One of these days, I'm going to duct-tape the two of you together and shove you in a locker," Puck warned, extracting the fifty-one dollars he had hoped to skim off the top of the profits and put it back with the rest of the money.

Mike only grinned and blushed slightly, while Brittany's face slowly brightened with a truly happy smile before saying, "Duct tape reminds me of popcorn."

Puck looked confused and Mike was forced to translate, "Summer-time MacGuyver marathons. I got her the box-set for her birthday."

"He's smart," Brittany concluded. "I wish I could have made out with him before he went into the Stargate."

"I'm going before you both eat my brain with your crazy bullshit," Puck grumbled, struggling to turn his wheel chair around as it was still interlocked with Chang's. His friends didn't let his less than dramatic exit affect them in the slightest as they continued to chat with each other.

"Mike, do you think that if I went through a wormhole two minutes into the future and shot myself, it would be a suicide?"

For his part Mike seemed able to keep up with Brittany's trainwreck of thought and pondered, "Don't you think it would be murder? I mean, you'd technically be two different people, right?"

"I don't want to kill myself. I'd probably be too attracted to myself. So if I made out with myself, would that be cheating on Santana or masturbation?"

***July 2004***

"Rachel! Welcome back! How was your dance camp?"

Rachel beamed at Mrs. Sokoloff-Leonardo as she rushed into the rec-room with a large box of cookies. She hugged her counselor and then went straight over to where Noah sat sullenly on the floor, spread eagle, looking far too bored than was naturally possible. Rachel put the box of cookies on Noah's stomach and looked at him curiously as he ignored her presence.

"It was lovely and intense and a little lonely, thank you so much for asking," she smiled at her counselor. She then looked at Noah, who still had not touched his cookies before asking, "What's wrong?"

"S'nothin'," Noah mumbled.

"He's been so grumpy without you, Rachel," Andrea revealed happily, feeling a measure of safety. The three weeks that Rachel had been absent had been an absolute hell, where Noah Puckerman had reverted back to his true satanic form. However, Noah's keeper was now back, and Andrea felt confident that the girl had him wrapped around her little finger and could force something resembling good behavior.

"You missed me?" Rachel couldn't help the small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

"Whatever," Noah rolled his eyes, rising from his lazy spot on the floor, securing the box of cookies firmly in his greedy hands before getting up and walking slowly from the room, mumbling the whole way, "Not like you've been there the last couple months."

Rachel's smile slowly faded and she sat still in her spot, staring at where Noah had been moments before. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Andrea's face staring back at her in sympathy.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

***December 2009***

"Where the hell are you going with those?"

Rachel spun on her heel, the angry, nearly shouting question surprising her. Her hands jerked and Puck easily caught the box that had flown from them. She suppressed a shriek as Puck ripped into the box and shoved two cookies into his mouth at once. She tried to re-obtain her box of cookies but Puck had no problem fending off her five-foot tall attack.

"GIVE THOSE BACK!" Rachel resorted to using her voice, screeching at the top of her lungs.

Puck looked unimpressed and continued to eat as Rachel resorted to a combo-attack of shrieking and hitting, her tiny fists doing no damage whatsoever. And as far as the screeching, he had become used to it over the years. As much as he complained about it, he certainly had gained a sort of immunity to it. He obnoxiously held the box of cookies above Rachel's head, just high enough for it to be out of her reach, and dropped it lower a few times. Rachel, completely out of her wits at that point, kept jumping up at it comically, causing Puck to snort cookie crumbs from his nose.

The disgusting cookie crumbs flying into her hair had done it, Rachel's patience was long gone and her sense of decorum and non-violence completely broke as she flung her whole body at Puck, knocking him to the ground in a tackle. She straddled his body and pounded her small fists anywhere that was accessible, his chest, the sides of his head, his neck as she continued to try to reclaim the box of baked goods to no avail.

"Berry-pants, enough!" Puck complained lazily as she continued to _attempt_ to pummel him. But if there was one thing his fight club meetings had given him, it was the ability to take a beating. And since it was _Rachel_, it was like a toddler had decided to attack him. No big whoop. "I'm never giving you this box back. You're just going to give it to Schue!"

"It's none of your business, Noah Puckerman!" Rachel bellowed, diving for his hands and missing yet again. "We aren't dating and we aren't _friends_, remember?"

"Oh please, those were your rules, you can't complain if I'm following them. It's not Christmas break yet. We aren't friends," Puck smirked, shifting his weight beneath her. If she kept wriggling, he was truly going to enjoy this. "Besides, Schue doesn't deserve cookies. You told me six years ago that **I** had to do a good deed. What's Schue done besides sing a creepy duet with you and treat you like dirt? I mean, do you even remember last week? He was going to give your green witch solo to Kurt!"

This gave Rachel pause for a moment, where rational thought flittered into her brain for the briefest of seconds before she went on the offensive yet again. This time, instead of using her fists, she fashioned her hands into claw liked shapes and went in for the kill. The unusual sound of Puck's uncontrollable, hearty chuckles echoed off of the walls of the choir room as Rachel tickled mercilessly.

"NO! Stop it-I'm not giving them back!" Puck managed to cry out crazily between his uncontrollable laughing fits. "They're mine, Berry-pants! MINE! I'll lick every one of them-I swear it!"

Rachel continued tickling, and Puck made good on his promise, taking every single star and music note shaped cookie out and licking at the cookie maniacally. At one point he may have licked her hand by mistake, but he didn't care. Between the painfully tortuous tickling and her writing on top of him, he had now gotten further with her than during their ridiculously short week _together_ as a couple.

"Ahem."

The pair froze, Rachel's hands now up Puck's shirt, Puck's tongue frozen in mid-lick of a cookie. They slowly turned their red faces, Puck would swear it was from the physical exertion of laughing and not embarrassment, towards the door where Emma Pillsbury was looking at them with even wider eyes than usual. Rachel popped right off of Puck's body gracefully, straightening out her skirt and rumpled hair. Puck remained laying, hoping that he wouldn't have to stand up completely tent-pantsed. Instead of even acknowledging Ms. Pillsbury's existence, he shoved another two cookies in his mouth.

Rachel began nudging him in the sides with her Mary-Janes and Puck eventually pulled himself off the ground. He gave Rachel a lascivious smirk and shoved another cookie in his mouth. He began to stroll out of the room and offered a cookie to the guidance counselor kindly.

"You _licked_ them," Emma breathed.

"Spit is totally sanitary, Miss P," Noah shrugged.

"I'm going to go wash my hands before Mr. Schuester gets here," Emma squeaked before she raced Puck out the door.

"Thanks for the cookies, Berry-pants, oh, and stop stalking Schue," Puck helpfully offered. He gripped the box of cookies as he grabbed his bag. "If you don't, I'm telling your dads that you just gave me a lap dance. See you at temple this Saturday!"

####

Next up is Hairography and Mattress! Look for it Wednesday! : )


	10. Chapter 10

So I was feeling super productive today. Also feeling extra speedy with the typing. This is a longer one. It has a small snippet of Hairography. I hope that you enjoy!

####

-**Chapter Ten**-

***June 2005***

Andrea Sokoloff-Leonardo slowly made her way down the hallway, not overly eager to start this summer's session. She was two and a half months pregnant, which frankly she was overjoyed about, however all the overjoy-ment in the world could not stop the fact that she couldn't put any one thing in her mouth and have it _stay_ in her stomach. She had extreme panic attacks where she imagined having to be hooked up to a portable IV bag lest the growing baby in her stomach become malnourished which would eventually lead to a fugly baby.

Not that she was superficial, but with her husband's striking good looks and her own not too shabby appearance the chances of having a fugly baby inexplicably became ten-fold in her brain.

Her husband had tried to explain that this was impossible. All babies and children were cute. But she knew better. She was about to embark on her third summer with a child who may not be hard on the eyes, but was definitely soul crushing in his demeanor. Sure Noah Puckerman had eventually perked up last summer after he had gotten over his initial sullenness about Rachel's odd behavior during the school year. It had taken at least eight batches of cookies before he had stopped drawing tiny phallus shapes in the synagogue's weekly service programs and teaching the little kids highly offensive swear words.

But by the end of the summer, he and Rachel had once again become thick as thieves. They had performed brilliantly at Rachel's end of summer musical extravaganza, and Andrea seriously hoped that they would consider performing for her own baby shower later in the year. That is, if they interacted with each other during the year. Andrea had done the best she could, but she could talk no sense into Rachel about the child's erstwhile plans to keep Noah's popularity and school friendships intact. And Noah would only grunt and act out in a predictably evil way when she would try to counsel the young boy about their problems. When she had seen them during the winter holiday, they had seemed perfectly normal, but Rachel was an excellent little actress and Noah was a first-class liar. She never knew what to believe when the two of them were involved.

And now Rachel would be missing again for three weeks due to her dance training. Which potentially meant that Noah had gone through another insane school year of pretending to be mean and hurtful to Rachel, at Rachel's own request. Which potentially meant that the poor boy had a whole school year full of confusion and anger built up within him. Which potentially meant that she would be having massive breakdowns from his impish behavior.

She warily approached the door to the rec-room, her shaking hand resting on the doorknob. She took a deep breath, imagining that a calm, zen-like protective bubble was encasing her and her unborn child. Noah Puckerman would not ruin any part of her summer this year. He had grown older and wiser in their time apart. There would be no toddler's cursing and absolutely no one would be duct-taped together and shoved in a supply closet.

Andrea closed her eyes tightly as she quietly opened the door. There. No sounds of glass breaking, shrieking children or a hormonally challenged young Jewish boy insulting her looks, her marriage or the fact that despite not being able to eat anything, she had gained ten pounds. It was safe. Noah would be normal and she would be saved from murdering a minor.

"Oh Noah…"

Andrea's eyes flew open at the sound of a delighted, moaned sigh coming from a person far too young to be making such a sound. She glanced around the room desperately, only to see Noah and Rachel sitting in the time-out corner, their lips glued together inexpertly, completely in their own little world as they engaged in what Andrea prayed was their first kiss.

She wasn't prepared for this. She was hardly equipped to deal with her own husband when it came to kissing and other things. It had been the one thing she had not gleaned from four years of college and two years of pursuing a master's degree in education. She would never be able to talk about anything sexual out loud, especially not in front of children. Therefore, she quickly and quietly retreated, intent on finding someone who could talk Rachel and Noah properly.

The pair did not notice their counselor's entrance or hasty retreat as they firmly pressed their lips together, neither knowing how to go further than that enjoyable step. Noah opened his eyes the slightest bit and wondering if Rachel was actually enjoying this as much as he was. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyelids were fluttering, so she certainly looked pleased. And she had sighed his name. That had to be a good sign.

She broke the innocent kiss and looked at him curiously before a mega-watt beam took over his face. "You were right!"

"See, told you there was nothing to learning how to kiss," Noah shrugged, his attitude nonchalant, although his cheeks were flushing ever so slightly.

"I'm thankful that I've been promoted to the more advanced group of dancers for camp, and therefore won't have to leave for Columbus for another two weeks. This was highly enjoyable and informative," Rachel nodded. She bit her lip shyly and said, "Did you like it?"

"Didn't suck."

"Noah!" Rachel admonished.

Noah pursed his lips peevishly. This see-saw act was getting to him. He had spent a whole year at school only interacting with Rachel through half-hearted insults. Mike and Matt had wisely let the subject drop after their repeated questioning had earned them slightly bleached hair, as Noah had somehow managed to sneak peroxide into the boy's shampoo in the gym locker room. School had become a blur to him. He and Rachel didn't have any classes together, so there wasn't even a need to pretend to ignore her. He was constantly bored and found that his impish need for pranking was dangerously growing into full-time occupation.

And yet here she was, first day of summer, expecting things to go right back to normal…or had she expected things to go _not_ normal, because for the vast majority of their school year, they had pretended not to know each other. Fifteen minutes after he picked her up at her house with Amberlee in tow, ready for another round of Jew-camp, she had made a highly unusual request.

She needed to learn how to kiss. He tried to ignore the very real possibility that needing to know how to kiss equaled her wanting to kiss other dudes. That was definitely something he wasn't willing to think about. He wondered why she would think he had any expertise in that particular area. He had never had a girlfriend, despite what his mother thought about him and Rachel.

She pinched his arm and made an impatient, high pitched sound through pursed lips and he looked at her and shrugged, "It felt nice. But I think it was kind of basic."

"What course of action do we need to take to make it non-basic?" Rachel demanded eagerly.

"I think that instead of just smooshing together, we need to move around…like the movies," Noah suggested. He licked his lips slightly and wondered, "Wanna try again?"

She didn't answer, she simply launched herself at him, doing her very best to imitate the kisses she saw in the movies or on tv, ever eager to prove that she was exceptional at something.

Noah's eyes widened in surprise as Rachel really tried to go past non-basic. This was going to be the. Best. Summer. Ever.

***December 2009***

Puck lingered at his locker leisurely. He was waiting for his brain freeze to subside before attacking the Mountain Dew flavored slushie that was sitting inside of his locker again. He refused to admit that lingering at his locker after homeroom gave him a glimpse of his baby mama on her way to English. And maybe Rachel Berry walked along that route too, but whatever. He wasn't _looking_ for Berry.

Besides, he wouldn't have to look on that particular day. He turned his gaze up the hallway and saw a glimpse of Quinn, who was clutching her books to her as she grinned like a Cheshire cat. She quickly rushed to her class, and Puck couldn't hate the happy, superior look on her face. The former Cheerio had been far too down as of late.

Any further thoughts on Quinn's happiness quickly flittered from his brain quickly however, as time seemed to slow, a spotlight seemed to light up a very familiar stupidly long pair of midget legs and he swore he heard the funny ass burlesque stripper music playing in his head. _Bah dah dah, de bah bah bah, bah da de dah_…hold on that was Rutherford's ringtone as Matt and Mike had joined him by his locker.

"Who in the hell gave Cadillac my cellie-woah woah woah woah woah woah…"

Mike rolled his eyes, as Puck's uncontrollable reflex kicked in and his fist connected with Rutherford's gut. Matt bent in half, at least he had stopped stammering like the horny-assed wolf in those old-time cartoons. Mike had to pinch his inner thigh as hard as he could to maintain a stiff and unaffected expression, because seriously? His eyeballs were about to pop out and he was about to start panting, "Awwooga Awwooga" any minute now. Because Rachel Berry was walking down the hallway towards her English class, looking as if she were the shortest model ever on a Victoria's Secret runway.

"Dude, you're totally drooling and she doesn't even have any cookies on her this time. Brit-Brit is going to owe me seventy-five dollars by the end of the day," Mike couldn't help the teasing smirk from appearing on his lips. He wished he could have because he soon found himself doubled over very much like Matt as Puck swatted him in his midsection with brutish force.

By the time Mike and Matt had regained their breath and posture, Puck had already snatched Rachel's hand and yanked her into a nearby janitor's closet.

Mike grabbed Matt's cellphone and answered it, "Mercy, we really don't have time. Yes, he has you listed as Cadillac. Sure, my pleasure…"

Mike swatted Matt on his head and hung up the phone. He then accessed the phones video recorder and did some particularly sweet, bad-ass ninja moves towards the closet. Matt sulkily followed behind, complaining about _woman constantly being on his junk_, before joining his friend as the young Asian tried to find a viable camera angle to film what he assumed was smut going down in the janitor's closet.

"NOAH PUCKERMAN!" Rachel screeched. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"What am **I** doing? _Me_? _**I**_ am doing nothing. What in the fucking ever fucking hell are you doing? You are one inch from panty and half an inch from nipple slippage, Berry-pants!" Noah bellowed right back, nearly matching Rachel's volume.

"It's none of your business how I chose to dress for school, Noah. Even if we were still dating, you would have absolutely no say. This is hardly 1910, and you have no authority over my hemlines or necklines!" Rachel insisted, stamping her feet and reaching for the door.

Noah gripped her hand away from the doorknob and looked down at her with crazed, bewildered and hazy eyes, "You aren't going anywhere until your clothes become more…MORE!"

"You're being ridiculous, Puckerman!" Rachel scoffed.

"I'm being ridiculous? **I am telling your dads**. _And my mom_," Noah threatened. "I know that your dads have to be out of town, because no way in hell would they let you leave the house like that. Jerome would call your therapist again and we'd have _another_ guest for winter break," Noah said confidently. "Who did this to you? I thought you were done with trying to Lolita Mr. Schue."

"Please, have a little faith in me. I've overcome that school girl crush and moved on with a more adult way of thinking. And dressing," Rachel glibly asserted, tossing her hair behind her back in a way she hadn't really intended to be sexy, but hell, was it ever.

"Okay, I was going to let the _Push It_ performance slide, because it seemed to be a one time deal. But add those knee pads, the simulated sex dance and this outfit, and you're going to have at least fifty baboons after your panties by the end of the day," Puck predicted.

"I'm so sure," Rachel rolled her eyes, maturely, her vocabulary disintegrating with the rest of her clothes. She only wanted one boy to notice, and Finn already had before homeroom. She had secured a date and had accomplished her goal. An impish smirk settled on her face as she arched a well-manicured eyebrow at her childhood best friend. "Besides…_I'm not wearing panties_."

"Oh fuck," Puck breathed, pulling on her arm and yanking her to him, crushing her in a very sudden, very desperate kiss. To hell with that. You can't say that to the school's _stud _in a dark, cramped space and not expect to get a little molested. He was surprised when she didn't squirm away, instead she kissed back as if his lips were an all you could eat vegan buffet and she was _seriously_ starving.

"HELLS yeah! Get him Rach, Get him!" Mike Chang hooted from the other side of the door.

"GRAB HIS ASS RACHEL! It makes him scream like a bitch!" Matt hollered.

Puck broke away from Rachel's lips, which didn't deter her as she assaulted his ears, her tongue giving the best swirly EVER. He looked down and smirked at Chang's hand which was firmly holding onto Matt's camera and recording every minute of this absolutely unexpected but absolutely fucking _awesome_ janitor's closet make-out session. Puck brought his foot up slightly and brought it down hard, aiming for the camera, but Rachel's tongue had found a sensitive spot at the base of his neck and his body jerked a little, landing right on Chang's hand instead.

He didn't care about his friend's high pitched squeal, but he did look down to see that Mike had retreated and taken the phone with him. Hopefully to the hospital to get his bones reset. Puck quickly forgot his asinine friends and placed his hands on Rachel's phenomenal ass, his fingertips at the hem of her skirt. He moved around a little as he reclaimed Rachel's mouth with his own, his fingers discovering silky smooth skin.

_Holy Slutastic Mother of Jehoshaphat_. She was telling the truth. She moaned and trembled against him as his fingertips grazed the line were the holiest of all asses met the most fucking awesome Jewish legs ever.

"Noah," she whispered, rubbing against him.

"Let's do non-basic shit," Puck whispered back.

She giggled, and that seemed to break whatever horny, lust-ridden spell she had fallen under. She pulled away and removed his hands from her behind and held them in front of her. She looked up at him with a slight smile peeking through that horny, come-bang-me-in-the-Janitor's-closet eyes. He couldn't help it. He pouted. Pouted like he was fucking six again, and his ma had just told him he couldn't have a second happy meal.

"This can't happen anymore," Rachel sighed.

"Why the fuck not? People'd understand. You're fucking smoking. And I'm god-damned irresistible. It's totally natural. Let's do it like they do on the discovery channel," Puck cajoled. He tugged on her hand and let her fingertips graze against the front of his pants. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and shrugged, "Remember what Suck-it-lots always said. You have to clean up after your own mess."

Rachel laughed again, and Puck couldn't help but chuckle a little with her. He wouldn't want to take Rachel's v-card in a janitor's closet…but god dammit, if he could find those knee pads…

"I think you can manage," Rachel said confidently. "In fact, I do remember walking in on you managing at least three times in the last four years. I'll see you at my house for Christmas Eve, Noah."

She kissed his cheek and breezed out the door, an extra little sashay in her step. Her confidence in the damned stratosphere at that point. He groaned in frustration when he realized that she had walked out in eight square inches of clothes and absolutely no panties. Or a serious floss-like thong.

"I'm still totally telling your Dads!"

***June 2005***

Noah and Rachel sat on a picnic bench behind the synagogue, patiently waiting for Andrea Sokoloff-Leonardo to return to where she had put them before the end of camp that day. The counselor had appeared flushed and harried when she even glanced their way. It made the both of them highly uncomfortable. Noah's brow furrowed as Andrea led a trio of parental units back to Noah and Rachel's table.

"Uhm…here they are. Please, take as long as you need. I'm gonna…go vomit," Andrea mumbled, making her quick getaway back to the synagogue.

"Daddies?" Rachel smiled in confusion. "What are you doing here? Camp doesn't finish until four, and then Noah and I usually walk home. It gives us a chance to catch up on the year."

"Gives you a chance to talk non-stop about all the fun you have without me," Noah mumbled.

Alison Puckerman grinned as she plopped down on the bench. "Well, my adorable little son and future daughter-in-law…"

"MA!" Noah shouted.

"We are here, to talk about some sensitive subjects," Jerome Berry easily took over the conversation. He had been elected leader due to having the most degrees out of the three of them. This was definitely a time that he wished he had followed his life-long dream of trashman. "Since Rachel has no female figure to call a mother, and Noah's father wouldn't be able to get within fifty feet of me without fearing for his own life…we've decided to make this a group project."

"Are we moving in together like the Brady Bunch?" Noah wondered sarcastically.

"No," Micah laughed.

"Is Noah moving away?" Rachel practically shrieked in hysterics.

"You don't talk to me during the school year, woman! Like it would matter if I would move!" Noah disputed.

"If I have to explain myself one more time about that Noah, my head will very likely explode," Rachel insisted in her most dramatic tone.

"Sometimes I think that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Better your head than mine!" Noah peevishly insisted.

"Children," Jerome used his authoritative voice and the Rachel and Noah felt the need to quiet for the moment. "Mrs. Sokoloff-Leonardo activated our families' private phone chain."

"I didn't do it," Noah said automatically, unable to help his reflex.

"Do what?" Alison narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"He totally didn't put saran wrap on the rabbi's toilet seat in his personal bathroom," Rachel rolled her eyes, her voice monotone and drab to emphasize her total boredom with Noah's bad boy antics.

"Berry-pants!" Noah admonished.

"She would have gotten it out of you, somehow, Noah. Your mother is better than any detective at getting to the bottom of your varied and amazing misdeeds," Rachel insisted.

"Yeah, but half the fun is having her try to figure it out. Are you trying to take away her fun?" Noah countered obnoxiously.

"There are times when I seriously have to consider the fact that my best friend has a tragic degenerative brain disease," Rachel drolly asserted.

"If I knew what half of those words meant, I'd probably be pissed at you," Noah muttered.

The three adults looked at each other in a mixture of amusement. Finally, Micah was the one who spoke.

"I can understand why Andrea walked in on the two of you _kissing_. You have to do something with your mouths when you aren't constantly spewing fun insults at one another."

Rachel's mouth formed a perfect "O" shape as her cheeks flushed bright pink. Noah cleared his throat repeatedly as he inched himself further and further away from Jerome Berry. The psychiatrist laughed and placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I'm not angry. It's perfectly natural that the two of you should be curious about your bodies and how they work. Together."

Noah eyed the Black Mister Berry suspiciously. He said he wasn't angry, but the grip on his shoulder _felt_ angry.

"It was inevitable. The two of you are both very attractive children. If you were going to want to kiss, it should be with each other," Alison Puckerman grinned, her expression absolutely euphoric. She wrapped an arm around Rachel and hugged the girl to her. "I can't wait to properly have you as my daughter."

"MA!" Noah shouted again.

"But obviously you're both old enough to know certain things," Micah interjected again, ever the peace maker and task driven man. "So, we know that you have kissed. We want to talk to the both of you together about what sometimes come next…and how we hope that you'll wait until you're both mature, ready…and maybe twenty-five."

"Micah, please. I'll need grand-children by then, they can wait until they're twenty-three," Alison squeezed Rachel extra-hard, causing her tiny body to tremble slightly.

"Rachel has a clear cut plan…I really doubt you'll be getting grand-children until she's nearly thirty," Jerome insisted. "And let's face it, they're both going to need extra time to be emotionally prepared for that step."

"As long as they're married by 2020, I'll be able to deal," Alison promised.

"OY! We're sitting right here!" Noah shouted. "What did you all want_ anyway_?"

"Noah," Rachel whispered.

"WHAT?" Noah hissed back.

"They're going to tell us about…oh no. The birds and the bees…" Rachel mournfully wailed.

Jerome smirked and slapped Noah's shoulder, perhaps a wee bit harder than intended. "The extended version, children."

***December 2009***

"Is it totally wrong of me as a fine Jewish man to be kind of enjoying Christmas?" Noah pondered softly as Rachel turned another page in the photo album. They were huddled together on the Berry's couch. Noah stretched out languidly, Rachel perched obnoxiously on his knees, paging through a photo album that Alison Puckerman had cleverly named, _Noah and Rachel, ages 10 through 13_.

Noah smirked, he was really glad that in all Mike's visits to his house, the kid had never once mentioned _Puckleberry_. Either the name or the actual week-long fiasco. He didn't understand what either of them had been thinking. They couldn't mix the, quite frankly, steaming hot tongue kissing with their friendship. They weren't ready for that. Everything had been too messed up. He missed the kissing and her hot little body, but he'd rather have this comfortable friendship, their easy traditions and their rock-solid history. He realized that qualified him for a transgender surgery to get the Puckzilla all inverted back in his body, but the warm and fuzzy nostalgia in him didn't care. He wasn't ready to shovel through the shitty hurt feelings of the last six years. Not yet.

Suddenly, his little sister zoomed into the room and gave him one small smirk before jumping on his stomach, sitting there comfortably despite his sudden wheezing. She grinned happily at Rachel and wondered,

"Whatcha doin?"

"Looking at our memories. Look there you are!" Rachel grinned, pointing out a miniature Noah and Rachel, twelve years old, grinning at the camera as they held a toddler-sized Amberlee between them.

"I wish I had a Noah," Amber sighed wistfully.

"What are you talking about, shrimp? I'm sitting right here!" Puck smirked.

"You know what I mean. Rachel had you all this time. A boy best friend. That's special," Amber tried to articulate.

"Hey, it was pretty special for me too," Puck mumbled.

Amber bounced up and down on Puck's gut a few times for good measure before hopping off and heading towards the kitchen, where the adults were setting up a feast of take-out that would make the fat baby Jesus drool. Rachel kicked her legs aimlessly and smiled at Noah.

"Pretty special for you too?" Rachel held up the scrapbook and pointed at a two page layout obnoxiously. The two pages were illustrated with colorful bee and bright flower stickers. The pictures of the two of them however, looked less sunny. As Alison had snapped pictures throughout Jerome's very technical explanation of all types of sexual relations. One picture had Rachel crying into Noah's shoulder as he looked at the adults in very horrified fascination, as if it were a car wreck he just couldn't bear to tear his eyes away from.

"Someday, we'll have to torture them like they've tortured us," Rachel murmured thoughtfully.

Puck thought to his own problems…his baby mama drama…the fact that he couldn't get a through a whole month without thinking about molesting Rachel horribly…once all the shit began hitting the fan, the torturing would never stop. He looked at Rachel with intense fascination as she continued to page through the scrapbook full of memories. He felt the sudden urge to spill his guts, to tell her _everything_. She couldn't abandon him. Not for 97 days out of the year...she would be there then. She would **have **to understand.

"What are you thinking about?" Rachel wondered, not really able to recall the last time Noah's face was so serious. Maybe it was that first winter holiday all those years ago when his father had reappeared. "Is everything okay?"

Noah could feel his eyes beginning to water and he managed to shake his head. Rachel gingerly maneuvered herself so that she was smashed between his body and the couch, her head level with his as she hovered above him.

"Noah?" she whispered. "You can tell me…what's wrong?"

"No, I can't," he shook his head desperately, willing the tears to leave his eyes. He didn't care if he was the world's biggest pansy at that moment. He didn't have to care. It was winter break. No one would judge him. He felt like the whole world was crashing down on his shoulders all of a sudden and he was seriously struggling to keep it upright. He had to find a way to work things out with Quinn or else he'd never be able to be around his kid. He had to make sure he didn't ruin the friendship he had with Rachel, even though she was busy chasing after Finn.

He had to keep balancing on this high wire and keep being badass Puck, not letting anything get to him. The only thing he wanted to be right now, was Noah.

He yanked Rachel towards him and wrapped her up in his arms, caging her against his chest as he struggled to maintain composure. Rachel rubbed at his shoulder absently, soothing him with soft words and small melodies.

"It's all going to be all right Noah. Whatever it is. It'll be okay."

Famous last words.

####

Okay, a little sad at the end. Not too bad though. If you have to have an emotional Puck, might as well have Rachel Berry on top of him, right?

Next up is Mattress with a little Sectionals. Rolling right along! Thanks for reading! And extra special thanks to all those that leave their thoughts on the chapters! They make my day.


	11. Chapter 11

So, we're rolling right along...

-**Chapter Eleven**-

***January 2010***

"Stop bouncing so hard."

Rachel looked up from her extra-bouncy mattress and furrowed her brow at Puck as he stared down at her sternly. An extra-mischievous smirk began pulling at the corner of her lips and she rose to her feet on the overly large mattress and Puck shook his head at her warningly.

"I was watching you when we ran through the number," Puck muttered, his voice low and surprisingly stern. "This is a mattress commercial, not a porno. Stop bouncing with so much…energy."

"I don't know what you mean," Rachel shrugged, unable to keep the very flirty tone out of her voice as she began bouncing up and down ever so slightly.

"Dude, you're going to be like that shake weight commercial…fat, balding hairy Star Wars freaks are going to watch this on Youtube and think about _you_ when they're waxing their light sabres," Puck sneered.

"You exaggerate when it comes to what people think of my physique," Rachel scoffed, bouncing with even more vigor. She laughed when Puck grabbed at her shoulders, but he couldn't deter her. They were about to film a local commercial. "The intensity of my bouncing is in direct correlation to my extreme happiness at our very fortunate stroke of luck. These mid-grade, affordable mattresses are our launching pad to success. Just this once, let some of this amazing fortune turn that over-used smirk upside down. BOUNCE with me!"

Puck did his best to remain stationary, but Rachel would not be denied. She bounced with so much force that as she placed her hands on his shoulders, he actually jostled on the mattress as well. This was the happiest he had seen her during the school year. It was a rare treat for her to be beaming that mega-watt grin at him when the date wasn't in the summer or winter break. He pushed down on her shoulders firmly and used her as a mini-launching pad.

"You can't jump as high as me, Berry. I'm going to be the super-athletic star of this piece," Puck chuckled slightly as a look of pure outrage exploded on her face.

"You take that back! I have the speaking lines! And I bounce as high as my shorter stature will allow me!" Rachel bounced in rhythm with him, although he had been correct. His athleticism and taller frame made him appear as if he was flying above the mattress.

"Are you admitting that you're a midget?" Puck teased.

"Are you admitting that you're a buffoon?" Rachel demanded right back.

Puck bounced to another of the mattresses that made up the set and took a pillow up in his hands. He looked at Rachel with one, devious raised eyebrow and asked, "The last time I checked, the Berry/Puckerman pillow fight record stood 78 to 0. You're the zero, remember?"

"Don't do it, Noah!" Rachel shrieked, half bouncing and half running away from him over the multitude of mattresses that had been set up for their commercial shoot.

"Too late, Berry-pants!" Puck shot back maniacally, quickly catching up to her and swinging the pillow at her, catching her on her side.

"I'm defenseless. You're attacking a defenseless girl!" Rachel squealed, rushing to find her own means of ammunition.

"I'm not attacking a defenseless girl," Puck insisted, leisurely following her around and bopping her upside the head with a pillow every once in a while. "I'm attacking a defenseless _midget_."

"AHA!" Rachel's comical, cartoonish reply echoed around the sterile white walls of the mattress shop. She held her pillow firmly in her hands and rushed up at Puck, who was looking at her without one ounce of respect. She brought the pillow over her head and whacked him as hard as she could over the head, and immediately pulled back to survey the damage she had inflicted. She blew out an exasperated breath as Puck only managed to roll his eyes.

"You suck, Berry-pants," Puck insisted, hitting her again with the pillow.

"You're bigger and stronger than me, not because you're better than me, but because your body is able to sustain larger muscles-"

"Stop staring at my hot body! I feel all creeped out and used," Puck teased. "You could buy me dinner before drooling on my _lovely_ arms."

"INFURIATING TRAINED MONKEY!" Rachel screeched again, hitting him with all the force she could muster, pleased to see that he staggered slightly as a cloud of feathers exploded into the air.

They continued to battle for what seemed like hours as downy soft feathers danced in the air around them, even if less than five minutes passed. At that very moment, they were in sixth grade again, spending a night at the Berry's house, watching too many movies and consuming too much sugar late into the night. Rachel may have been thrilled about her small foray into local stardom, but an entirely different feeling was warming the pit of Puck's stomach at that moment. Happy, warm and fuzzy nostalgia. It made him forget that this last hellish six months ever happened. Nothing could be going wrong when he was having this much fun with this girl who secretly knew him better than anyone.

"O. M. G. Could you guys get a room to get that tension out?"

The pair froze as the feathers fluttered around them. Rachel swallowed nervously and turned ever so slowly to see Santana Lopez, perfectly coiffed and in her pajamas standing at the door. Brittany wasn't far behind and grinned happily at Puck and Rachel.

"Thanks for stopping them, Santana. My dad said he wasn't going to increase my allowance because of the minotaur I ran into with his car. I was only trying to help the bunnies though, so I think that my dad is being unfair," Brittany stared at Puck and Rachel blankly as Mike and Matt rushed up behind them.

"I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE IT WOMAN!" Matt screeched at Santana.

"You call me woman, one more time, and I swear, I'm going to make out with you," Santana glared at Matt severely, causing the boy to shrink away from her. "Leave the whole _woman_ shit to your actual woman."

"Wha-you're…crazy. And don't know what—HEY! Look, Rachel and Puck are totally friends!" Matt pointed at a blushing Rachel and an unconcerned, bored Puck.

"Wow, you sell out your friends faster than Santana sells her dad's Vicadin," Brittany remarked.

"Please, I'm unimpressed," Santana rolled her eyes. She turned a smirk towards Puck and said, "I've known about Puck and Rachel since we were eleven."

Rachel looked to Puck incredulously and swatted him with the pillow again. The young man brought his hands up defensively to block her attack and swore, "I never said anything to her! I never-"

"You guys always seem to forget that I'm the one in charge," Santana reminded them, her tone bored and unaffected. She shrugged and muttered to Brittany, "And also, saying her name a couple times when we were fooling around didn't help either."

Mike and Matt shrugged and hopped onto the mattresses with Noah and Rachel, immediately full of energy. Mike smirked at Puck and said, "Guess we can drop the charade. Half the Glee club knows."

"Mike, please, what charade? Noah and have gotten closer through Glee…" Rachel immediately went into cover mode. "I'm sure that whatever Santana thinks she knows is due to her overactive and highly creative imagination."

Mike looked to Puck curiously and mumbled, "How do you deal with this, dude?"

Puck swung his pillow at his friend, feathers exploding in the air once more. He shrugged as Rachel climbed off the mattress to fix her appearance again and admitted, "I act out. A lot."

***June 2006***

"I don't understand why you care so much…I've become perfectly accepting of the fact that the people who can be the most expressive are usually the most hurtful. For every insult on my profile, there have to be at least ten to twenty followers who think nice things."

"Did you eat your demented-Wheaties this morning?" Noah scoffed, checking the camera once more before fiddling with his guitar.

"I ate granola this morning, Noah. You were _here_," Rachel reminded him. "You ate your body weight in turkey bacon."

"Whatever, I just wanna try something," Noah insisted. "If the bitches on Myspace think that this is lame? Then they're totally lying and lame…"

Rachel smiled in front of the camera, she always missed this during the school year. The way that Noah thought of her…thought _about_ her. He was supportive. He knew that she was talented. He had told her that he thought she was more talented than the whole rest of Lima combined, although he had used far more colorful, inappropriate language. He was a very caring individual when it came down to it. And that was her little secret. No one else knew this Noah, and although she mourned the thought of forcing him to be a different person at school, that essentially selfish part of her couldn't help but adore the fact that this Noah was only hers.

"Ready?" Noah asked as his fingers hovered over record.

Rachel beamed at him and nodded, and he began the video camera before going back to his guitar, softly strumming a song they both knew very well. She smiled wistfully at the camera before sweetly singing the words to their favorite song.

##"_So denied  
So I lied  
Are you the now or never kind  
In a day  
And a day love  
I'm gonna be gone for good again_

_Are you willing, to be had_

_Are you cool with just tonight?_

_Here's a toast to all those who hear me all too well…_"##

Noah smiled at her slightly, always slightly in awe at what she was able to do with her just her voice and the emotions flickering on her face, in her eyes. He wished he could be half as good at just one thing in the world as she was at singing. He took a deep breath and softly sang a harmony to the chorus.

##"_Here's to the nights  
We felt alive  
Here's to the tears  
You knew you'd cry  
Here's to goodbye  
Tomorrow's gonna come too soon_"##

Twenty minutes after they posted the video, they got their first comment. Rachel sighed and Noah rolled his eyes as he recognized Santana Lopez's myspace login.

"_God damn, Man-hands…you actually have a man in your room? Slut._"

"She's twisted," Noah assured Rachel, who was not to be deterred by Santana's comment. "She just gets her kicks from trying to push you down. Don't ever let her get to you."

"She won't even be able to catch me. Much less get to me."

***January 2010***

Rachel lingered in the choir room as the photographer packed up. The other Glee kids were slowly filtering out of the room, all thoughts of photo-vandalism completely gone as they instead focused on Schue's disbarment from Glee. Rachel shuffled her feet as she approached the piano and began to plunk out a few keys, flittering her fingers around until a soft melody began to play through the room. The photographer left and she began singing softly, not using her performance voice, but rather her softer, gentler voice that she had never once used inside the Glee practice room.

##"_Put your name  
On the line  
Along with place and time  
Wanna stay  
Not to go  
I wanna ditch the logical_

_Here's a toast  
To all those who hear me all too well_

_Here's to the nights we felt alive…_"##

Rachel stopped singing abruptly, shocked into silence as the familiar, rich sounding baritenor voice joined her for a harmony. She looked at the doorway and saw Puck standing there watching her with a sad smile on his face.

"_Here's to the tears we knew we'd cry_"

He sang the next line alone before stopping and nodding. "Forgot what time of year it was. We don't sing together. You sing with Finn now."

Rachel sighed sadly and patted the piano bench next to her, inviting him to sit down next to her. Puck gradually made his way over and began slowly playing the bass line to "Heart and Soul". Rachel smiled softly and tapped the melody out on the piano keys. They didn't even get to a second verse when Rachel stopped abruptly.

"Do you think that Santana was telling the truth?"

Puck shrugged and said, "She's always said that she's like…a puppet master or some shit like that. Wouldn't surprise me."

"But…the whole point of pushing you away was to make sure that you would be happy at school," Rachel said softly. "And Mike and Matt have known forever…"

"I think Brittany knows. She's always spouting off about some metaphor or something when she hears you made cookies," Puck smirked.

"Brittany? Wait-what? _What_ metaphor?" Rachel furrowed her brow, blushing slightly as her mind began to comprehend Brittany's thought process. "Oh my."

"Berry-pants…this is twisted. I mean, I get that you were trying to take a bullet for me…be all noble and shit. Can it end now?" Puck asked softly.

Rachel pursed her lips softly and said, "We've hurt each other a lot in the last six years."

"Yeah…sorry," Puck nodded.

"You didn't do anything I hadn't asked for, Noah," Rachel conceded. "Although the continued slusheying and your-forgive me for saying this, _constant_ whoring around…"

"I'm telling your dads you just said whore," Puck smirked. She pushed against his shoulder with her fingertips and he pretended to be injured. "And I'm telling them you hit me."

"You were always the tattle-tale," Rachel shrugged. "We have to ease our way into this, Noah. But if Santana has truly known that we've been friends all this time and hasn't tried to eliminate you from the high school's upper echelon of popularity…"

"Like she could," Puck scoffed. His badassness melted slightly at Rachel's knowing look. "Yeah, Santana could probably explode the sun if she wanted it enough."

"We can do this," Rachel said softly.

"Yeah," Puck nodded. He swallowed and reached for Rachel's hand impulsively, squeezing it tight. For months he had been feeling as if he couldn't force a set of words out of his mouth. For months he thought he knew without a shadow of a doubt that one certain secret would never reach Rachel Berry's ears. But in Rachel's soft declaration of hope for their future friendship, something broke within him. He couldn't stop the words now. "I need your help. And you have to forgive me. Promise."

"I promise," Rachel said quickly, not hesitating for a moment.

"No, pinky swear," Puck insisted, holding her pinky with his. She squeezed as hard as she could and he took some strength from it. "Finn's not the dad."

"Oh!"

Silence consumed the room and Puck stared at Rachel with an inordinate amount of fear on his face. Sure, he could face down nearly anything in this life, but pushing her away with his mistakes…he was scared to death.

"Oh…"

She whispered, recognition taking effect. She didn't pull away. She just sat there and stared at him, tears simmering ever so slowly in her eyes as she stared at him.

"Oh, Noah."

Silence enveloped them again, and Rachel controlled her watering eyes with surprising quickness. Puck, however, wasn't having the same success in stopping his tears. They slowly slipped from the corners of his eyes as he continued looking at her. His expression begging her to forgive him.

"Noah, you have to tell Finn," Rachel insisted, her voice soft, but her declaration leaving no room for argument.

"Can't," he shook his head. He shrugged and said, "Quinn won't ever let me see her. Ever. She refuses to even…"

"Then I'll figure it out. The truth is killing you, Noah. I can see it. It has to come out."

***June 2007***

"You're late!"

"Huh?"

"You are over thirty minutes, late, Noah! We're due to leave for New York any minute now, and being even the slightest bit behind schedule will throw our entire itinerary off wildly. And if you make me miss _Wicked_, I will end your life. Then I'll resurrect you. Then I'll smother you to death AGAIN. Where is your bag?"

"In the car already. Chill, Berry-pants," Noah rolled his eyes. "Your dads bought the tickets for two days from now. It doesn't take two days to get to New York."

"Yes, but I planned the overnight stop for halfway. Just for you, and we need to get there before dark," Rachel grinned. "Come on, Daddies are outside waiting, let's go."

The two teenagers climbed into the backseat of Jerome Berry's gas efficient car. Noah smirked at the two adults in the front seat and said, "Transform and roll out, Berry's."

Rachel squealed as her traveling CD began filtering through the car stereo and Noah groaned.

"I'm not listening to _Wicked _ the whole way!" Noah insisted.

"Of course not. This is an Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenoweth mega-CD. It has all of the songs they've ever recorded, in addition to a quite a few bootlegs," Rachel grinned. She turned to him and demanded, "Why were you so late, anyway?"

"I was half an hour late. Barely," Noah scoffed.

"Answer the question, or I'll sing along at full volume!" Rachel demanded.

Micah and Jerome exchanged a look in the front seat and Micah quickly plugged the both of them into their separate Mp3 player and cranked the volume, drowning out the sounds of hormonal teenagers arguing.

"Look, I just had this thing. I'm done with it now. We're all good…heading to New York and the mystery pit stop I'm going to love," Noah assured her.

"Where were you?" Rachel wondered softly. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it as hard as she could. "Tell the truth."

"I had a date. With this Cheerio up at the high school," Noah mumbled, barely audible. "Don't worry…it totally sucked and I told her there was no way that I'd see her again."

Rachel still held onto Noah's hand as she stared at him silently. She seemed to forget about it as the minutes passed. Noah squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile.

"You never have to worry, Berry-pants," Noah assured her. "My ma would kill me. You're end game."

"Huh?" Rachel furrowed her brow. She scrunched her nose in distaste as Noah laughed his head off. "Please tell me what's so funny, Noah Puckerman!"

"You said huh with a dumbkid look on your face. That's awesome!" Noah laughed. He settled down in the backseat comfortably, his conscious eased at having confessed to Rachel. "So, where we going for my pitstop? A Music store to get new CD's?"

"I'll have you know that _My Philosophy_ was an absolute star maker for Ms. Chenoweth. Her career sky-rocketed after-" she yelped as Noah squeezed her hand again, which she realized was still firmly held in his. She blushed slightly and said, "We're stopping for the evening in Hershey, Pennsylvania. I thought that for a reward for singing the Wicked duets with me, you could hit a few rollercoasters at Hershey Park…and of course the bumper cars."

"Sweet! You're the best, Berry-pants," Noah grinned. He kicked Micah's seat and declared, "I'm owning you in bumper cars Mr. Berry! It's on!"

***January 2010***

They hadn't spoken since the flood waters of Babygate had come rushing out. They had shared one look in the hall. Rachel had done his dirty work for him. The secret was out and he was implicated in no way at all. But it was still awkward. He tried to tell her thank you without words. But there weren't enough thank you's in the world that he could give her.

She had put the Glee club in jeopardy. Finn had quit. The other kids probably hated her even more for yapping the secret. But she had done it anyway. Because he had needed the truth. So she had given it to him.

Luckily, Finn managed to make it to Sectionals regardless of the Baby Daddy drama. Sure he was sulking in a corner as Mike tried to teach him the simple choreography, but he was here and they were going to win. Puck walked out of the room, heading towards the end of the empty hallway where he knew she'd be, preparing for her ballad.

"I vote for _Hit me Baby One more time_," Puck smirked.

Rachel took a deep breath and threw a hesitant smile towards him before nervously chattering, "You know that the only Britany song that I find acceptable is _Toxic_. And I would change _everything_ about it."

"I know, we've practiced it," Puck nodded. He smiled and said, "What are you going to do?"

"DROMP," Rachel said with a droll smile. He had always insisted on abbreviating the extra long song titles into acronyms.

"Killer," Puck nodded. They were silent for a moment before Puck mumbled, "Break everyone's legs."

"That way they can't run out," Rachel smiled back.

Puck nodded and looked back to the room where the rest of their Glee club was slowly walking out of, a bundle of nervous energy. He reached out and squeezed Rachel's hand slightly and asked, "We're going to be okay, right?"

Rachel bit her lip and thought about it for a second. Puck took her silence as his doom and he slowly began backing away.

"Noah?"

He turned to look at her, all the hope in the world on his face, his expression identical to his eleven year old face.

"End game."

**####**

**Song credit: "Here's to the Night" by Eve6**

Blame Pandora. They put this song on my station like, two months ago, and from that song, this fic was hatched.

So, an announcement of sorts. The next chapter is the second to last, that should be posted Monday. Which means the finale chapter, Lucky number 13, will be posted by next Thursday. And it's going to twist the premise I've been using a wee bit, but hopefully you'll enjoy it.

And to all the lovely people who have favorited, reviewed or messaged me, thank you. As a gift, I'm totally doing a cracked out sequel that I'm planning. Title?

**#######_berry Saves the _****Blank**. See you Monday!


	12. Chapter 12

Happy Monday! Well...happier Monday since work is done for me for the day! I think we should all be eight. Nothing to worry about all summer long except drinking Kool-Aid and making sure you have as much fun as humanly possible.

Here is Chapter Twelve! I hope that you like it!

-**Chapter Twelve**-

***June 2008***

"Jesus, Suck-it-lots! How old is your first kid again? Like, two? You guys don't slow down, do you?" Noah walked onto the school bus with his duffel bag. He stared down as the summer camp counselor…now the official youth activities director for the Synagogue, checked his name off of her list.

Andrea Sokoloff-Leonardo signed and rubbed a hand over her rotund, expectant belly and said, "Apparently, my husband, darling Catholic that he is, believes that the rhythm method is the _only_ acceptable form of birth control. And he truly believes that if we use any other, we'll both go to hell."

"You know what's effective birth control? Cutting Mr. Leonardo off entirely," Noah smirked.

"Believe me, I'm seriously thinking about it," Andrea smiled. "So, we're totally going to have fun, right? Three weeks in the Poconos…hiking, fishing, camping, bonfires, smores."

"Rachel already recited the brochure to me a bazillion times. Apparently she wants to find a barn and put on a show too," Noah shrugged.

"You guys are talking through the school year? Is everything normal now?" Andrea wondered curiously. She had a firm investment in Noah and Rachel's relationship, she had been the one to technically introduce them after all. In her years of working with children, she had never seen a pair so perfectly matched in a friendship. He calmed her down. She straightened him out. He gave her a sense of practicality and humanity. She gave him music and vivid color. He gave her his vegetables and she gave him all the meat he could eat. Andrea was sure that if Rachel could get over her insane martyr complex, they could be the very best of friends for the rest of their lives.

Noah's nose wrinkled in distaste. They were about to enter their freshman year at McKinley in September and no, things were still not normal. It seemed unfair and slightly hilarious that all the kids from school thought he was this awesome badass and yet he couldn't force Rachel Berry to be friends with him at school.

"Oh," Andrea sighed. "She'll come around. Maybe this summer she'll realize that she doesn't want to-"

"Save it, it's never going to happen," Noah shrugged, walking towards the back of the bus to stake out his and Rachel's seat.

"Rachel Berry will be mine before the Noah and Rachel angle ever gets out," Jacob Ben-Israel, who had been hiding outside of the bus until Noah disappeared, said earnestly to their camp counselor. He shuffled his feet and said, "There's a reason I've not interfered. One day, she'll be so upset that their friendship just doesn't work, that she'll have to turn to me for comfort. And making out. And possibly third base action."

"Jacob?" Andrea raised a dangerous looking eyebrow. It was the look she gave her two year old son when he was about to do something idiotic.

"Yes, Ms. Sokoloff-Leonardo?" Jacob smiled creepily.

"It's good to see that you're still working on earning that restraining order."

***January 2010***

"Woman! I've repeatedly asked you not to blow up my cell during the school day. My dad is totally going to kick my ass when he sees how many texts I got. No, being scared of my pop doesn't make me less of a man. Cadi, he's six foot six!"

Matt Rutherford breezed into the choir room, when he heard a sniffling from the corner. He looked curiously and saw Rachel sitting on the top riser, Indian style, her head in her hands. He stiffened and whispered into the phone, "Baby, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later."

Rachel continued to try and control her tears as Matt walked up to her, sitting next to her with his long legs in front of him. He stealthily managed to send a text, to hell if his father cursed his ear out for an additional charge to his phone. He patted Rachel's shoulder and mumbled,

"I'm not good at tears. So helps on the way. Promise."

"Kay," Rachel sniffled, taking solace from Matt's friendly gesture. "It's been a really atrocious day."

"Cadillac texted me eight times about the slushy attacks. You'd think that people would find better things to do with those things. Like drink them," Matt shrugged. "Puck started a really expensive, dumb tread."

"Yeah," Rachel miserably sniffled.

The front door to the choir room burst open and Mike Chang and Puck rushed through the door, looking around wildly. They walked quickly towards where Matt and Rachel were sitting and threw themselves to the ground in similar fashion, Puck immediately settling himself close to a now sobbing Rachel as he quickly hugged her to him, allowing her to cry into his shoulder.

"What happened? We got the text," Mike asked his partner in crime, looking at his phone where Matt had sent _Berry 911 Choir room now_.

"It's stupid," Rachel blubbered. "Finn-"

"Yeah, he's definitely stupid," Puck drolly asserted, rolling his eyes. "I mean, Quinn said that he was scared for a while that the baby would be born evil when it came out, since it was out of wedlock and a bastard and stuff. So he became an ordained minister online so that he could perform the exorcism."

"Reverend Finn Hudson," Mike shook his head in disbelief. "I say we convince him that Sue Sylvester's possessed and he can try to exorcise her."

"Then we can all laugh at him when Sue shoves him in the trophy case," Matt grinned.

Rachel let out a giggle into Puck's shoulder, which had been the boys' goal. They seemed to be more at ease then, none of them being entirely comfortable with an emotional girl, but with an emotional _Rachel_ girl, they were very much on edge.

"So he fell for the girl on girl action?" Puck wondered softly and felt Rachel nod against his shoulder. "Sucker. I hope they bought the expensive food and then didn't even let him watch them make out."

"They let me watch them make out…it's like…a really awkward heaven," Mike admitted softly, eliciting another giggle from Rachel. "When I asked her about Finn, Brit said they were just following orders. Don't be too mad at them, they have to or else it's like…Sylvester will lock them into cardboard boxes of shame."

"I'm not mad at Brittany or Santana. I'm mad at Finn," Rachel mumbled. "Really really mad. Super…duper…_pissed_."

All three boys looked at Rachel incredulously. In all of Puck's years in close proximity to her, he had never heard something so crass come out of that gorgeous little mouth of hers. She had better not do it again. He was not going to walk around all tent-pantsed due to her again. He would tattle to her dads in a heartbeat that she needed her mouth washed out with soap.

"All right, you're pissed. That's good. Do something instead of crying your eyes out about it. Get pissed," Puck encouraged.

"Put a stink bomb in his locker," Matt suggested.

"Nair in his shampoo?" Mike wondered.

"Kick him in the nads!" Puck helpfully offered.

"You boys tend to forget that I'm Rachel Berry," Rachel laughed softly. "I'm not going to cry about it, but I'm not getting expelled for petty revenge."

"You're going to sing, aren't you?" Puck chucked as an exasperated little smirk took over his face.

"I think so," Rachel nodded, and all three boys could see the wheels clicking in her mind. "I might even be able to semi-complete Mr. Schuester's assignment."

"Mr. Schuester's lame-ass assignment," Puck rolled his eyes.

"Will you guys back me up today in Glee?" Rachel wondered hopefully. Upon seeing all three boys nod eagerly a small grin lit up face. "You know what, guys? I think I'm a very lucky girl."

***August 2008***

"AWESOME! Berry-pants, look it, I totally exploded the hot dog…"

"Your mother will be _so_ proud," Rachel smirked at Noah as he placed the still burning hot dog dangerously close to his mouth. "NOAH! You're going to burn your vocal chords out."

"Relax," Noah rolled his eyes as he blew the flaming hot dog off. He smirked at Rachel's long wooden stick, that she had forgotten in the fire. "Your marshmallow is being incinerated."

"Oh no!" Rachel squealed, pulling out the charred marshmallow. She pouted and wondered, "You don't think the chemicals in it were mutated by the fire, do you?"

"I'm pretty sure you won't be getting marshmallow chemical cancer," Noah assured her. He watched in fascination as she brought the crispy marshmallow up to her mouth and bit tentatively. "Rach, what are you thinking-"

"OWWWW!" Rachel yelped, flinging the marshmallow away from her burnt lips, having it cross through the bonfire, catching aflame again before landing in Jacob Ben-Israel's hair. The boy screeched as his hair caught fire and the rest of the campers, including the counselor rushed to his aid, putting him out. Noah was too busy rolling on the ground with laughter as the rest of their group filtered off to the first aid cabin with Jacob. Rachel cringed as the boy shrieked over the charred remnants of his hair and she looked at Noah and said, "Woops."

"That was awesome. Jew-fro was like the human torch," Noah chuckled mercilessly. He dusted himself off and plonked down next to Rachel again. He placed an arm around her shoulder and said, "I can't believe this is the last summer we get to spend with Suck-it-lots and Jew-fro."

"Mmmm," Rachel nodded, her fingers tenderly grazing her burnt lips. "It's so strange to think that next June, we won't be going to the Synagogue."

"We'll have other adventures," Noah promised. "I'm going to have my license by then. We'll have to teach you to drive, and the best way to do that? Road trip."

"We can go see Avenue Q in New York City," Rachel grinned.

"The sexy puppet swearing show? ." Noah smirked.

"_Every thing in life…is only for now_," Rachel sang softly and sweetly. She furrowed her brow in sudden annoyance and brought her hand to her tender lips.

"That's what you get for being greedy and trying to jam a flaming hot marshmallow into your mouth," Noah teased.

"This comes from the boy who looks like he's trying to suck the chicken's soul out when he's eating a drumstick," Rachel threw back feistily, pursing her lips in annoyance, only to whimper again from the sudden pain.

Noah reached for a cooler and brought out a cold can of pop. He gingerly placed it against Rachel's burnt lips and laughed when she puckered her mouth eagerly. They stayed silent, the only sound swirling around them was the crackling of the bonfire. Noah's free arm snaked around Rachel's shoulder and she placed her head there comfortably as she soothed her burnt lips on the icy cold can that Noah held to her lips.

"Things aregoing to change, are they? When we get to high school?" Noah wondered hopefully. "I mean…it'll be a whole new thing, new people. We don't have to do what we've been doing, right?"

Rachel shrugged and Noah took that as a positive. She didn't turn him down immediately, which had been her mode of operation usually. Of course that could be because he was holding a can of cold soda to her lips. He pulled it back and his eyes widened in amused surprised to see that her full lips had turned slightly blue. He pulled the can off and rubbed her lips and said, "You burn your lips off and I freeze them off."

"It's cold, but it was good," Rachel nodded shivering slightly.

"Yeah," Noah nodded, feeling nothing less than a god damned gravitational pull towards that pout. It was summer. He was allowed. Their lips had a very liberal visitation schedule over the summer since they were thirteen. He kissed her softly and could only open his eyes in amazement as Rachel quickly went from zero to sixty in less than a millisecond.

Where in the hell did she learn all that? Was it Chang? He'd kick his ass the minute he got home, he swore it. Woah…tongue stuff…woah how was she moving her tongue like that? He just went with it, not realizing that Rachel Berry was teaching him more about kissing than any of those high school girls had. She leaned into him heavily, and he found himself reaching out for her with his hand, to grab her closer somehow, like, on top of him, if it was possible.

_**Clunk**_.

"NOAH!" Rachel squealed, holding her forehead, where the can that Noah had been holding had made its forceful impact.

For his part Noah looked apologetic and immediately fell off the log they had been perched on, landing in front of her with a look of shock on his face.

"Berry-pants, I didn't mean it, I'm so sorry-"

"Noah, you're on fire!" Rachel screeched, and indeed, Noah had suffered the same fate as Jacob, as his hair quickly ignited from the bonfire.

"SUCK-IT-LOTS! You fire safety is _shit_!"

***February 2010***

"_Run…Pucky Run…Pucky Run…"_

"You. Are. Dead."

Matt shrieked, in Mercedes' words…like a bitch, as Puck launched himself at his friend, chasing him around the choir room. Matt used the piano as a reliable shield as Puck wielded one of the chairs over his head. Brad cleared his throat from the door and both boys immediately took five steps away from the piano. Neither wanted to piss the pianist off, and they knew that the baby grand was completely off limits. Matt decided instead to hide behind Mercedes.

"Wheelie, give me Matt's cellie," Puck demanded, and easily caught it when Artie tossed it his way. He paged through the contacts and smirked, "Let's see, I'm gonna call _Cadillac_…who do you think will answer."

"Don't do it!" Matt demanded, although it was too late. Mercedes' phone began ringing and showing a speed and agility that even she was surprised by, she grabbed Matt by the collar, and dragged him through the band and into one of the sound proof practice rooms.

Puck smirked as everyone could hear her screaming at him and could clearly see him repeatedly saying "Baby, baby, baby…"

"What's going on? Why is Matt turning purple? That can't be healthy," Rachel furrowed her brow as she came into the choir room. She looked around at the members who had assembled so far, the only ones missing where Quinn, Finn and Jesse. "Do you think they'll be long?"

"It'll take ten minutes at least until Mercy's voice starts to hurt," Mike shrugged.

"Or Matthew's testes completely drop off," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Well, I got everyone, _I'm sorry_ gifts. I realize that the last few days have been a travesty for everyone," Rachel shrugged. She walked towards the practice room and opened the door slowly.

"OH HELL NO! You aren't getting _any_ tasty treats ever again…"

"WOMAN. SHHHH about the tasty treats!" Matt screeched.

"Uhhh…I got you both gift cards for Itunes, as an apology for yesterday," Rachel said quickly, tossing the cards into the room and quickly closing the door. She turned to face the rest of the crew and handed out her gifts. Mike grinned as she handed him a special edition of _Step up 2 the Streets_ and advised, "There's a young Asian dancer who really reminds me of you."

"Thanks, Rach," Mike grinned, aiming a waggle of his eyebrows at Puck, who could only roll his eyes.

"Brittany and Santana receive a twelve pack of tasty Lipsmackers," Rachel gifted the girls who happily accepted. "You may do whatever you see fit with them."

"Make out?" Artie whispered his desperate wish fervently, earning him a smack on the arm from Tina.

"Kurt, a gift card to the mall," Rachel smiled. "I knew that you would have burnt whatever I would have picked out for you."

"Hallelujah," Kurt squealed.

"Artie and Tina, an assortment of very amusing buttons and patches from Hot Topic," Rachel thrust the bag at Tina.

"Ahhh DOMO!" Tina giggled, showing Artie their gifts.

Rachel turned to Puck and he smirked, "I don't want no stinking buttons, Berry-pants. That video sucked. You tricked me _and _we didn't even get to make out. You know what I want."

Mike covered his mouth but began to make obnoxious kissing noises that echoed throughout the choir room. Puck smacked him on the back of the head and Rachel smirked as she walked towards Puck and handed him an _extra-large_ box tied up with a pink ribbon. He grinned and tore off the ribbon, pocketing it as he dove in, his hands suddenly full of cookies as he began to eat them as if he was seriously starving.

"You just gave him cookies. In front of like…people," Brittany said quietly. "It's like seeing the tooth fairy for the first time. She's got a killer blue dress, but her butt is kind of ginormous."

Rachel sat next to Puck and reached for a cookie, laughing when he swatted at her hand. Mike was staring at them, his eyes wide with astonishment. He continued to swivel his head back and forth between them, as if some exciting miracle had just occurred.

"Brit, you owe me a year's allowance," Mike whispered, afraid if he talked too loudly, some sort of spell might break. Because only magic could have performed this miracle. Rachel Berry and Noah Puckerman were interacting with each other at school. Not making out, not fake dating…but simply interacting as if they were friends. "You gave him your cookies at school."

"Metaphor," Brittany sighed, rubbing her lips against the Root Beer flavored lip-smacker.

"What in the ever living hell is a metaphor?" Puck demanded as Rachel fidgeted uncomfortably beside him. He pulled Matt's phone out of his pocket and quickly accessed Wikipedia through the web browser. He read for a few seconds as Rachel's cheeks reddened. "So…the cookies are…"

"Rachel Berry," Santana rolled her eyes.

"And I'm addicted to the cookies, so…"

"You're totally addicted to Rachel Berry," Mike grinned. "And now, everything can be normal. I think I might faint."

Puck shrugged and placed another cookie into his mouth, smirking at Rachel. His mouth totally full he crassly mumbled, "Cookies can totally mean…_you know_. **Cookies**."

"I hope that someday, God listens to me just once, and you choke on those cookies," Rachel rolled her eyes.

"You love me, Berry-pants," Puck said confidently. "Stop trying to fight it and just do what comes naturally. Ditch Saint Douche of the lower highlands of Douchebaggery, make out with me constantly and supply me with cookies until I get love handles."

***September 2008***

Rachel waited on the bus, on the very last row of seats patiently as they rumbled their way through the route towards the high school. The school bus lurched to a stop and Rachel looked towards the front hopefully, an expectant smile on her face. She had been thinking a lot about what Noah had said at the bonfire, before the kissing and his hair unfortunately catching fire. Things _might_ be different in high school. The two middle schools in Lima were merging, meaning that their class would double. Surely Santana would find someone else to torture in that batch of fresh recruits.

She wouldn't be popular of course. But she wouldn't be in last place. She wouldn't have to worry about being a social burden to Noah. Things could really change now.

Her brow furrowed as a body slumped down next to her. She glanced over her new seat mate and her jaw dropped.

"Noah? What is that…thing on your head?"

"Like it? I'm a total bad ass," Noah grinned at her, running a hand through his new mo-hawk. "There was nothing else my ma could do with it, besides shave it all off. You like it, Berry-pants?"

"Hmmm," Rachel pursed her lips, tilting her head slightly to her right as she evaluated his new look. "It certainly does justice to your fabulous bone structure. And it really gives you a very…dangerous edge. You're like a modern day James Dean in _Rebel Without a Cause_."

"Right, totally hot bad ass. No one is going to mess with us in high school," Puck nodded in agreement with himself.

Rachel turned slightly pink at his use of the word _us._ She felt her emotions bubbling inside, as if she were a human-sized container of Bubble-gum flavored pop. They sat in comfortable silence for the rest of the bus ride, and soon the bus screeched to a stop at the front McKinley High. They ambled their way to the front of the bus where Puck smirked at the driver and said,

"Thanks Aggie. You know, for not crashing us today."

"I'll only crash you on test days. Promise, Puckerman."

Rachel giggled as she hopped down the steps to the bus to join Noah and they looked up towards the high school anxiously. It seemed…really large. Rachel flinched slightly when she felt Noah take her hand in his and squeeze it slightly.

"Here we go," he muttered, and they began walking towards the front door.

"PUCK!"

Rachel immediately wrenched her hand from Puck's and took two steps away from him, as if entirely on instinct. She flushed and looked up at his face, her heart breaking for the sudden sadness and anger there. Suddenly Mike and Matt were standing next to them, and Karofsky and a new boy they hadn't know before wasn't far behind.

Mike smiled and waved at Rachel, and Matt followed his lead. "Hey Berry. How was your summer?"

"Very lovely, thank you," Rachel nodded. "I trust yours went well?"

"We spent all summer playing Rock Band," Matt answered. "We need two more though to get all the band achievements, though. So if you and Puck are bored, and you feel like singing."

"When doesn't that nerd feel like singing?" Karofsky scoffed, finally having made his meandering way over to the other boys and Rachel. "Yo, Azimo, this chick was like the biggest loser at Mapledale. I mean, she'd be less annoying if she would just finally grow some boobs…"

"Watch your mouth, Karofsky," Noah grunted.

"What? Is Freaky Berry your girl now?" Karofsky chuckled. "You're going to start high school off with a bang…like…a bang to the head. That mouth must be good for something besides singing…"

"That's not cool, man," Mike said softly, his hand gripping Noah's jacket as hard as he could, because the last thing Noah needed was to be suspended for completely killing another student on the very first day.

"Please, it's fine," Rachel rolled her eyes slightly, her face a mask of boredom and disdain. "I'm really used to hearing all of these things from Puck, anyway. Why don't you boys go and bang a few rocks together in the hopes that you'll discover fire, finally. Oh, and if you didn't understand all the big words I just used there. You cavemen…really dumb."

Noah watched as she walked away in a huff, pulling her trolley bag behind her with her nose in the air. It felt like she had just thrown a very large bucket of ice water in his face. All of their hopes for having a normal friendship in high school quickly burst into flames right in front of them. She had called him Puck…

It was a week later, when he was walking down the hall with Finn and Azimo on their way to football practice, his hand clutching a large grape slushy when something really broke. She was completely ignoring his presence. Cozying up to the male lead of that stupid Glee club she had joined, batting her eyelashes at the obviously uninterested boy, her hand on his puny bicep…

His hand jerked uncontrollably. And Rachel was _covered_ in the purple icy drink. She looked at him incredulously and his expression was fiercely antagonistic, almost demanding that she do something in retaliation. Scream at him. Threaten to tell his mother. Something that would signal to the whole high school that she had been lying all this time about the both of them.

Instead, she held her chin in the air and walked very quickly to the girls bathroom. Not one hint of a tear in her eye.

"Fucking awesome," Azimo congratulated. "You're like...the king Puck."

Puck. _King_ Puck of the badasses. Rachel wanted to make sure no one ever found out about their friendship. He could definitely handle that.

***March 2010***

"The big question for me…is who artfully arranged the stuffed animal collection, and who stapled their furry asses to the dress?"

Rachel couldn't help the small smile spreading across her face. She knew she had made the right decision when she had interrupted a conversation between Puck and Quinn and asked for him to drive her to Carmel. No one else in the world could have eased her nerves or given her the strength to go and see her mother again.

"I'm betting Micah dropped them all over the freaking place, and Jerome pretended he was like, Shaft or something and stapled them," Puck laughed. "I bet he was even humming the theme song."

"Singing it, and he replaced _Shaft_ with _BERRY!_ It was very artfully done, if I say so myself, but I'm going to be naked before the end of the day if I don't do something about this," Rachel gingerly picked at the Raggedy Ann Doll that was incorporated into her Gaga outfit. "Thank you for doing this for me, Noah."

"No prob," Puck shrugged. "Really, no problem if all those animals drop off and you have to be all naked in my truck."

"NOAH!" Rachel hissed at him, her cheeks turning a healthy pink color.

"Whatever, Berry-pants. Even Winnie Cooper had to give it up to Kevin eventually. I'll be waiting for the day you _beg_ me for it," Puck raised what he deemed a sultry eyebrow her way.

"Yes, and then she ran away and he had to marry someone else," Rachel reminded him.

"Yeah…that did suck buckets," Puck acknowledged. Suddenly an explosive chuckle burst from his lips and he said, "You can't give me a downer on this one. Pacey and Joey."

"That's unfair!" Rachel cried out.

"And Finn is dumb ole Dawson. Even the forehead is perfect!" Puck continued to laugh as he pulled into Carmel High parking lot. "So, when do you want me to cash in your V-card? Should we go traveling around the world this summer or what?"

"We can't be counselors for Sokoloff until next year," Rachel shrugged, her lips puckering slightly as her eyes danced with sudden amusement. "But you have to give me a really big romantic gesture first."

"Aww, shit. You're not going to make me paint a wall, are you?" Puck groaned. "Cause I'm not that much of a man-gina yet. I'd probably draw a huge picture of boobs."

"Lovely," Rachel rolled her eyes. She stared at the entrance to the Carmel High auditorium and fidgeted in her seat.

"You want me to go in with you?" Puck wondered.

"No…hopefully it won't be too long. You should start to get ready for Glee," Rachel insisted.

"You want me to put on my whore lips? I can't do it, part of the deal was you had to do my makeup!" Puck whined.

"Fine, I'll be right back out, just…maybe get into your jumpsuit?"

"That just means you're going to be staring at my junk all the way back to school," Puck said confidently. "And we have to travel the world this summer before you can play with my junk."

"I could play with your junk right now and you wouldn't argue, Puckerman," Rachel assured him.

He smirked at her, the tiny stuffed lamb on the top of her head was really too adorable if he really thought about it. He reached out and patted it before surprising the hell out of her by planting a swift, strong kiss on her cheek.

"It's _Noah_, Berry-pants," Puck said softly. "Now go in there and talk to your mom, before I make all of those animals fall off."

**##########**

Okay. So. I've officially run out of flashback time. We're not going to see the summer before the Glee Pilot.

However, we are going to see a different sort of Flashback in the last chapter. Look for Chapter 13 by Thursday. Thanks again for reading! And the replies are eagerly read and appreciated. You are lovely and wonderful readers!


	13. Chapter 13

Surprise! I'm a day early. This is long. And this is the last chapter of World Famous Sugar Cookies! As many of you know, this was my first Glee fic. I haven't written fic in a looong time. And everyone who has read, favorited, pm'd and reviewed has made writing and posting this incredibly and amazingly easy. You are really amazing people out there on the interhighway. Thank you so much!

So...I gave an inkling last chapter, a different kind of flashback. I hope that you enjoy. WARNING: Super sucrose ahead. You will need to brush your teeth afterwards, because Sugar is in the title people. It's syrupy sweet.

-**Chapter Thirteen**-

***April 2010***

"What on EARTH are you doing? What are you _thinking_, NOAH?"

Puck blinked rapidly, as he stared downward at the insanely loud, angry shouting. Rachel Berry stood in front of his driver's side door, still in those insanely, ungodly fucking red short shorts, her hands on her hips, her face quickly reddening as her blood pressure clearly began to rise in direct correlation with her anger.

"Berry-pants, chillax. You don't need to know about this," Puck assured her, attempting to walk around her to access his truck. She remained unmoving and he said, "Move Midget."

"Absolutely _not_. If you think for one second that I'm going to let you go to Carmel High again and get yourself expelled over someone as _meaningless_ as Jesse St. Barfbag, you are sorely mistaken, because there is no way in _he-_**NOAH!** PUT ME DOWN!"

Puck smirked as he gripped his hands around her waist, easily lifting her up off the ground and away from his truck. He opened the door and quickly sat down, and was thrown completely off guard as she clamored in after him, straddling his lap as she stared at him with incredulous fury.

"You are not going to Carmel. I don't care that 34 tiny baby chicks will _never_ have the chance to live…it's not worth it. We showed them with our Funk number, you don't need to-"

"Like hell I don't! He humiliated you. No song, no matter how awesome and badass, is going to make up for the fact that he smashed poor baby chicks all over my girl's face. I'm going to rip his hands off and shove them up his butt! I waited a few days so that the murderous rage would turn into just a bone crushing simmer, I won't kill the fucker, just_ maim_ him," Puck promised.

Very, very suddenly, his anger floated into the stratosphere. Because very, very suddenly, he had Rachel lips smashed on his own mouth. And she smashed lips better than any one person he had ever known. The big mystery of his life? She was the one who taught him how to kiss like a fucking champion that summer in the Poconos. He still had a burning curiosity on where _she_ had learnt it from.

His hands found his favorite ass in the world and they were both groping around for control of the steamy make-out session. She gripped the gold chains still around his neck as if it were a leash of sorts, yanking his body closer to hers. It took just one shift from Puck and suddenly she was leaning against his steering wheel, his hands that were still on his own little piece of ass-heaven bumping against the horn to his truck.

The blaring sound made Rachel jump up from Puck's lap, only to have her head meet the top of his truck with a loud thumping sound. Puck's eyes widened and he shifted her off of his lap and into the passenger seat. He brought a gentle hand to the top of her head and whispered,

"You okay, Berry-pants? Do you have a concussion? Do you remember who you are?"

"I'm Rachel Berry. You said-you said," she mumbled.

"I said you were Rachel Berry? Finest ass in all of North America? Monster singing voice…seriously, it will eat my brain if I let it. I said you were the absolute number one kisser of all time?" Puck questioned quickly, feeling her head for any suspicious lumps.

"You said I was your girl," Rachel whispered softly, reaching up to grab his hand from the top of her head to hold it in hers.

"You are," Puck nodded casually, as if his words were no big deal. He shrugged and admitted, "You've been my girl since you threw that first box of cookies at my head. You're my girl, Berry-pants. You're my end game."

"But…Quinn is having your daughter. And you dated Mercedes…and Santana, and everything is all messed up," Rachel shrugged, her descriptive vocabulary flying from her clearly concussed head. "And, I've been _horrible_ to you."

"Doesn't matter. Quinn and I are friends, probably for the rest of our lives now, just friends. I mean, there's no way either she or I will want to be within ten feet of each other in just our underwear, to be safe. Mercedes was a disaster, both because it lasted less than three days and the fact that Matt's payback involved duct-taping my butt cheeks together. And Santana is…well an unholy she-devil," Puck shrugged. He smiled and kissed her forehead. "But you're my _best_ friend. Not just 97 days out of the year. You're my best friend, Berry Pants. You're still my end game."

"I'm the one you want with you at the end of the game," Rachel nodded. She smiled softly and said, "Okay. But-until Beth is born, I think we should keep things…"

"Basic?" Puck supplied. He could agree to basic for now. He would never say it out loud, but the sheer fact that she was willing to be friends year round was enough for him. It would be enough for a pretty long time. He nodded and said, "Okay. I can do basic. But you can't wear those shorts, and you can't straddle me in the truck."

"They you have to stop saying surprisingly romantic and heartfelt things."

"Berry-pants, I'm a first class ladies man, all the shit I say is romantic and heartfelt," Puck assured her. He settled himself behind his wheel and said, "I say we go get you a smoothie somewhere, and then we go to Carmel's parking lot so we can watch the fucking badass hilarity unfold."

"Noah!" Rachel admonished. "What did you do?"

"Put bed bugs and itching powder on their auditorium seats. Those little fuckers are going to think that their herpes is flaring up."

***June 2020***

"Remember the last time we were all in Vegas like this?"

Noah looked up from the bench he was sitting on to see Mike Chang standing in front of him, all grins and giggles. He rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, that time that you and Matt almost got me, Rachel, Quinn and Finn arrested? And Rachel extradited to Israel? Yeah, those are the good times that I always want to remember, Jackie Chang."

"Well, we're here for better memories. I'm not supposed to let you get arrested though," Mike admitted with a shrug. "And we're not allowed to go see strippers."

"No strippers? But I'm the perfect lap dance apparatus!" Artie pouted from a few benches down, ramming his chair slightly into Matt Rutherford's legs.

"I'm telling Tina, dude," Matt smirked at his long-time friend. "I'm not going against the rules. She'll ninja kick my nads. Then Cadi will turn them into a belt for Kurt, or somethin'."

"Dude, so, we've got high stakes poker in a half an hour at the Stratosphere," Mike announced. "Then we've got extra special seats at that old-ass Playboy bunny's burlesque show."

"You're totally going to get pulled up on stage to dance," Finn assured Noah. He smirked at his friend and reassured him, "At least this time you won't be in drag."

"I'm really, really glad that you guys didn't have a chance to you know, take me along that summer," Artie smirked. "I can't pull off drag."

"Finn makes the prettiest girl in the world," Noah shrugged. "None of us can compete. Does Kurt still have that poster framed?"

"You guys are assholes," Finn mumbled. Yes, his step-brother still did have that small memento of Finn's short time in Las Vegas from ten years ago. It was what Kurt called the focal point for his relaxation study. "I don't know why, eight years after high school ended, I'm still hanging with all of you."

"Cause you can't tell your rights from your lefts?" Noah offered helpfully.

"Cause who else would help you buy the Trix to help you find the bunny?" Mike chimed in.

"Cause secretly, you love us more than you love Quinn?" Matt finished.

"I believe it's because like a lot of relationships we formed through Glee, they're like…cemented together. Why would you look for new friends, when you have eleven people who went through hell and back with you?" Artie poetically posed.

"We should have left Wheelie with the chicks," Noah laughed. "Is this a bachelor party or an estrogen fest?"

"Bachelor party," Mike hopped off the bench as the fountains at the Bellagio began their 8:30 show. "Let's walk…or roll off into the Sin City night, like the badasses we are."

***April 2010***

"You'll be okay to drive back to the hospital?" Rachel wondered morosely, looking down at her hands.

"I'll be good," Puck promised. "Finn and Mercedes are coming along. You okay?"

"Noah, nothing matters right now but you and Quinn. You two are doing something…heartbreaking and amazing," Rachel insisted. "My Daddy J and I were talking about it one day, and he said you were like a Saint or something. Because you know, he wouldn't really have me if it hadn't of been for Shelby letting him adopt me…and he's so proud of you. You know that right? We're all so proud of the both of you."

"Yeah," Puck nodded. "I'll see you when I get home, Berry-pants."

"Okay," Rachel smiled sadly and watched as he walked towards Mercedes' mother's car. She turned and got on the bus, going towards her customary back seat and frowned when she saw Santana sitting on the last bench.

Rachel paused in front of the Cheerio and Santana blew out an exasperated breath, "Man-hands, SIT."

Rachel did as she was told, all of her energy sapped from her due to the enormously exhausting and heartbreaking day they had all just experienced. She sat primly next to Santana, holding her breath. Suddenly, Santana had her arms around her in a surprisingly non-awkward hug.

"Uhhh, what?" Rachel squeaked as Santana hugged her fiercely.

Santana pulled away and shrugged, "You looked like you needed it. And you know…maybe I did too."

"Okay," Rachel nodded. She smiled weakly and offered, "You're going to be _fine_, Santana. I mean, with your talent and amazingly strong voice, you're going to have plenty of opportunities to perform."

"It wouldn't be the same and you know it. I like our group. I like being the boss of you guys," Santana admitted peevishly. "Speaking of which, why didn't you go with Puck to the hospital?"

"It was just a little too overwhelming," Rachel said quietly, her voice barely over a whisper.

"Cause his first kid is some adopted bastard and not with you?" Santana hypothesized. She took Rachel's silence and slight pout as an affirmative and said, "Yeah, I was kind of pissed that he and Quinn did that without my permission. And the fact that he was dating _me_ at the time."

"Why do you-I don't quite understand, Santana, why do you have to be in charge of everyone?" Rachel furrowed her brow. "Why did your need for control effectually cause my last place popularity status for the last six years?"

Santana crossed her arms in front of her defensively and averted her eyes to the window, where the flat Ohio landscape was rushing by in a blur of green grass and grey concrete. The pair of girls remained silent for a few minutes as Santana tried to compose her thoughts.

"You met my Dad once," Santana stated flatly. "He's big on being the boss of things. My friends, my social life, my religion, my thoughts, _everything_. Not to get into the messy details, but he asserts control in like, the crappiest way ever. I rebel. I find different outlets for the bad feelings. If I can't control my own life because I'm afraid my Dad'll knock the crap out of me, then…"

"You'll control everyone else," Rachel said softly.

"And I know I was mean-I still am mean," Santana clarified. "But, I think that the minute I saw you, I was really jealous. I mean, you're Rachel Berry, dammit. You have two gay dads who probably held up fabric swatches in front of your two day old face to let _you_ choose your bassinette blanket."

"My head slightly turned towards the pink butterflies," Rachel nodded. "They took that as my confirmation of liking it more than the soft yellow daisy pattern."

"I'm not done with the heartfelt confessions, Man-hand. I know it's hard, but you can try to keep your trap shut for five seconds, at least," Santana snapped. She then smirked a little and let out a low and throaty chuckle, causing Rachel to let a small grin take over her face. Santana looked back out the window, and then to the front of the bus where Brittany was huddled with Mike Chang. "Your dads would love you no matter what. If you decided to come home as a member of a troupe of singing and dancing high school freaks, they would love you. If you decided to bring home a mohawked idiot, they would love you. If you decided that maybe you're meant to only love one _girl_ for the rest of your life. They would love you."

Santana went silent again, her eyes slightly shocked that she had let so much out, to Rachel Berry of all people. Rachel let one full minute of silence pass before she took Santana's hand in hers and squeezed.

"You have eleven other people here that will love you, no matter what," Rachel offered. "It sounds trite, I know. But you can't go through something like this year, and not have the friendships forged in tons of Elmer's glue."

"I could do without some of the eleven, I mean, Artie is such a drag," Santana sarcastically asserted. They both laughed again, quietly, garnering a strange look from the boy in the wheelchair, who had a sixth sense that the two hot girls were whispering about him. "All right. I spilled my guts. Am I forgiven?"

"For six years of torture?" Rachel asked incredulously.

"I'll figure out a really awesome _I'm sorry_ gift for you later," Santana rolled her eyes.

"Finn told me that he loves me," Rachel blurted.

Santana looked at her in shock, her eyes on the verge of popping out of their sockets. "No shit," she whispered. "But…that ruins _everything_. No, that's impossible. He has to have seen what you and Puck are by now. No one is that stupid."

"I think I may have led him astray," Rachel said morosely. "Last week, Noah and I…well, had a steamy kissing session in his truck. It's been happening quite a bit lately. I blame the completely out of control teenaged hormones and the fact that physically, we are very comfortable with each other…"

"Really?" Santana smirked. "Because I remember seeing a video on Matt's phone that showed you dry humping him in the janitor's closet."

"It's just, we agreed to be basic for now. Just friends until all of the feelings and consequences are sorted through," Rachel sighed. "And I wanted to see if I kissed Finn again, it would make me feel like I feel when I kiss Noah."

"It didn't, I could have told you that, you idiot. The next time you want to know how you feel, just save yourself the time and ask me," Santana ordered harshly. "I know everyone on this bus better than they know themselves."

"Yes, evil puppetmaster, I get it," Rachel sarcastically shot back. "Still…now Finn thinks that there's something between us…"

"Finn's an idiot. He loves Quinn, still does. But you have this nasty habit of making men feel really great about themselves. Like greater than they actually are or ever will be," Santana accused. "If you could stop that, it would be fan-freaking-tastic."

"What do I do?" Rachel asked very quickly, hoping to appeal to Santana's need for control. She would gladly give this huge problem to Santana, just to avoid the heartache.

"Leave it to me, I'll take care of everything."

***June 2020***

"Man-hands! Out of the tub! You've soaked long enough. Brit's going to moisturize you while Quinn gently dries your hair with the microfiber towel. Tina! I think that what you really want to be doing right now? Isn't texting Artie. You actually want to be doing what I told you to do, which is letting Mercedes fix your nails. And where in the hell is our nine-thirty room service? There will be hell to pay if we don't get our cinnamon crunch bagels."

Rachel giggled as Brittany carefully applied the very expensive moisturizer and Quinn began very _non-gently_ slapping a towel against her wet hair.

"Girl, if you don't dry it properly, it will frizz out. Rachel's got a secret jew-fro, and there is no product in the world that will fix it if you don't dry it right!" Mercedes yelled from a corner of the room where she had wrangled Tina into allowing the black and blue polish to be removed from her nails.

Santana grinned as her minions did her bidding. She hadn't built an empire of event planning at the age of 26 by being a sweet little Tulip. She had harnessed her fabulous bitch powers and pulled off some of the greatest parties and weddings in the last six years. And although she would never admit to it, this was going to be her very favorite.

"If I keep rubbing her, this is going to get dirty, and she just took a bath…so…" Brittany shrugged helplessly as she continued to apply lotion to a very supple and moisturized Rachel. "And then I'm going to need serious girl time before we can leave the room."

"I'm not having sex with you," Quinn asserted quickly. "I'm not even making out with you again."

"She's properly moisturized," Santana rolled her eyes. "Time to get into the binding undergarments."

Rachel said nothing. After countless birthdays, general celebrations and eventually premiere parties that Santana had planned, Rachel had learnt her lesson. Just let the control freak do as she pleased, and eventually, the harsh, shouted commands would stop and only an awesome party would remain.

"Brittany, if Santana says it's okay, do you think you could do me a favor?" Rachel asked sweetly, not directing her question to Brittany at all, but to Santana instead.

"It's already taken care of, Man-hands," Santana smirked. "Please, I know you. Mike's going to give it to him an hour before the ceremony."

"Oh, well, thank you," Rachel grinned.

"Thank you for -" Santana goaded.

Rachel bit back her flippant response and sarcasm. She kept the genuine grin on her face. She would not poke the dragon. Not on today of all days. "For your ultimate wisdom and superior decision making skills. Thank you for _everything_, Santana."

"Damn straight. Tina! No skulls on those nails, dammit! FREAK!"

***May 2010***

"Do you want to make out again?"

"Brittany, really, now is not the time," Rachel laughed. "And we agreed, that we would never speak of it. You remember your promise. And now, especially now, you can never repeat it to Santana."

"Too late. She wasn't too mad. She only crushed like, one beer can against her forehead," Brittany revealed. "And it wasn't full that time, so she wasn't too mad. I think she's interested in a foursome with us."

"Who would be the fourth?" Rachel asked cautiously, completely dumbfounded.

"Mike, of course. He's the only one allowed at girl time," Brittany confided. "We're all going to be married someday."

"That's more than bi-sexual…that's triangular," Rachel whispered. "And very, very greedy."

"Greed is good. Also, threesome sex," Brittany nodded happily. She reached out a hand and yanked Rachel across the school hallway. "I almost forgot. We have to go to the auditorium."

"Wh—where are we going? I don't want to be a part of girl time. Believe me when I say that I have far too many romantic avenues in my life right now, and I'm not ready for _any_ of them," Rachel stammered.

"Oh, this will help. Or it might make your head explode," Brittany smiled, leading Rachel to the auditorium. "Santana set it up. It's pretty."

They opened the door to the auditorium, and it was pitch black, except for the distant twinkling of fairy lights on the stage. The tiny sparkling lights began to multiply, soon filling up the whole stage like the most beautiful night sky. A single spot flared on the stage, and Puck was sitting on one of the stools, his guitar on his lap as he began to strum. Another spot went on and Finn was behind the drums, playing a steady, subdued beat, sounding very much like a heartbeat. Artie was illuminated next, playing his bass.

Matt was the next to have a spot shine down upon him. He was in front of a turn table, and the record he was currently spinning was the soft and beautiful sounds of strings. Brittany grabbed Rachel and forcefully sat her down in one of the chairs before rushing towards the stage herself.

###"_See the stone set in your eyes  
See the thorn twist in your side.  
I wait for you.  
Slight of hand and twist of fate  
On a bed of nails she makes me wait  
And I wait without you_

_With or without you  
With or without you…_."##

Puck's earnest voice echoed throughout the auditorium beautifully. A new spot lit up Mike and Brittany, and the two danced gracefully together, neither performing ballet nor modern dance, but a lovely mixture of the two, their bodies interpreting the words that Puck was singing.

###"_Through the storm, we reach the shore  
You gave it all but I want more  
And I'm waiting for you_

_With or without you  
With or without you.  
I can't live with or without you._

_And you give yourself away_"##

Rachel watched enraptured as her peers performed for her. She tore her eyes away from the beautiful scene for just a moment and saw the rest of the Glee club manning the spot lights. Suddenly, Santana was sitting next to her with a smile.

"I'm a pretty fucking brilliant director, Man-hands," she whispered. "You should convince Schue to give me control of one of the numbers next year."

"Absolutely, this is lovely," Rachel nodded. "I'm incredibly impressed, Santana."

"We wanted to sing it for you. Just you. Because we sang Schue a song. And then he sang us all a song. This is for you."

##"_My hands are tied, my body bruised  
She´s got me with nothing to win  
And nothing left to lose._

_And you give yourself away  
And you give yourself away  
And you give, and you give  
And you give yourself away._

_With or without you  
With or without you  
I can't live  
With or without you."##_

"It's therapeutic, of course," Santana shrugged. "Puck's singing it to you and his daughter. The rest of us are singing it for just you though. Because as annoying as you are, we really do appreciate it. But its pretty fucking unbearable most of the time."

"I love it," Rachel sighed, watching as Puck sang the rest of the song, looking directly at her. She couldn't help the small whisper escape her lips, "I love him."

***June 2020***

"Hungry?"

"No fucking way. My girl is the shit," Noah grinned, attempting to take the white box with the pink ribbon tied around it. Mike evaded his grasp and Noah actually growled at him. "Not funny, Jackie Chang, give me my fucking cookies. They're mine."

"They came with a message. No cookies, unless you do a good deed," Mike smirked.

"I joined Glee, that meant cookies for life," Noah insisted. He launched himself for his agile and athletic friend, and wasn't surprised when Mike easily evaded his grasp. "You've been dodging sixteen years of well-earned beatings, Miyagi-san. One of these days I'm going to ambush you and you won't be able to walk for a week."

"You should buy him dinner first."

Noah turned and actually let out a happy chuckle as the woman in her mid-thirties threw herself at him.

"Suck-it-lots, you made it!" Noah swung her around in a bear hug.

"I wouldn't have missed this for the world!" Andrea grinned. "I am the reason behind today's glorious nuptials. Thanks for having it in Vegas. My husband and I haven't had a kid-free vacation in…well, ever."

"We've got an emotional connection to Vegas," Noah shrugged.

"It was the first time he dressed in drag for Rachel. Not the last time, though," Mike jeered. He regretted it, because Noah hit him with a sneak attack, swatting him in his mid-section and leaving him breathless.

Noah grabbed the box from the prone Mike and tore off the ribbon eagerly. He handed the box to Andrea with a stern warning, "You don't get any. Those are bad ass husband cookies only."

"Right," Andrea nodded, watching as he twirled the ribbon expertly around itself, creating a rosette on the end, allowing the rest of the ribbon to stream downwards.

"Where's Kurt?"

"Here," Kurt said breathlessly, handing him a bouquet of pink ribbon rosettes. "Aren't you glad I made all of you boys attend bi-monthly scrapbooking sessions?"

"Yeah, yeah, totally glad you made me semi-gay. No offense Berries," Noah smiled back at his soon to be father's-in-law. He handed the bouquet to Jerome and was surprised when the older man pulled him into a hug. Noah actually laughed when Micah joined in. Noah could feel a burning in the back of his throat as he whispered to them, "I'm really glad Rachel's making good on her promise. I can officially share you now."

"We're very happy to make it official," Micah smiled as he and his partner released the young groom. "Right on time, too. Your mother's timeline only permitted six more months."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Noah smiled. "Can you give her that? I took care of the something old."

"So romantic," Kurt sniffled.

Andrea handed Noah back his box of cookies and chuckled as he ripped into it, much like he was eleven all over again. She full out snorted when Mike and a newly arrived Matt tried to procure one of the star shaped cookies and each received a bruised midsection.

"Mine. Remember the metaphor!" Noah growled.

"Keeping in line with that, Rach is totally going to hold out on the _cookies_ now that you're going to be the ball and chain," Mike teased.

"Bull shit. Have you seen by fine body? She wants me all day, every day. We're like god damned bunnies with a life-long prescription for Viagra," Noah smugly asserted.

"Too much information. I'm going to go and sit down now," Andrea quickly made her getaway. She grabbed her husband's hand and allowed an usher, one Will Schuester, to seat them in front of the Bellagio fountains.

Andrea waited patiently as Noah clearly finished his cookies, allowing him to take his place up at the front of congregation of wedding invitees. She grinned and waved at Rabbi Greenburg who had a hand clasped on Noah's shoulder in congratulations. Loud, blaring music began playing suddenly, and Mr. Suck-it-lots grinned with excitement as a jazzy, big band version of "Here's to The Night" began playing.

"I introduced them to this music," he reminded Andrea needlessly.

"I'm sure they're eternally grateful," Andrea smiled back patronizingly at her husband. She watched as Noah's groomsmen and Rachel's bridesmaids walked down the makeshift aisle towards the iconic fountains.

Tina sat on Artie's lap, and the young man began popping wheelies with his chair, rhythmically to the music. Behind him, Kurt and Mercedes were actually _vogue-ing_ down the aisle, to the delight of all the wedding guests. Kurt blew a kiss towards the Hudon-Hummel contingent and placed a full-on kiss on Schuester's lips before he and Mercedes parted ways at the front of the aisle. Mercedes giving Noah one slap on his ass for good measure before standing next to Tina.

Next was Finn and Quinn, swing dancing as best they could. It worked for them despite Finn's atrocious dance skills, as he just had to flip Quinn around as best as he could, the lithe young woman making up for the fact that Finn was basically a walking, talking trampoline. Finn spun Quinn towards the front and she nearly crashed into Noah, who reached out and hugged the girl tightly, before shaking Finn's hand.

The last four to come out were the respective maids of honor and best men. Matt, Mike, Brittany and Santana grooved their way down the aisle, the music having changed from big-band to more hip-hop. The rest of the congregation stood even before Rachel made her entrance, dancing along with the exceptionally talented foursome as they walked down the aisle. They reached Noah finally and buried him in a tackle hug, and Santana broke down in joyously happy tears all of a sudden as Brittany linked her pinky with hers and walked her to stand with the rest of the ex-Glee girls.

The music faded suddenly and all eyes were back at Rachel, who was sandwiched between her two fathers, a mega-watt grin easily spotted from behind her veil. She clutched Puck's ribbon bouquet to her chest as she began a very slow walk up the aisle.

##"_Where it began? I can't begin to know when_

_But then I know it's growing strong_

_Was in the spring, And Spring became the summer_

_Who'd have believed you'd come along"##_

The wedding guests, turned enraptured audience, actually cheered as Noah began to sing the song as his bride walked towards him. The cheers became louder as the ten people who grew up with him joined him. Schuester was sobbing his eyes out next to Alison Puckerman, who despite her ridiculously happy tears, was still manning a video camera that actually recorded in 3D, as well as a professional grade digital camera. He swore she had bought the technology that would have made the freaking Harry Potter pictures jealous.

###"_Hands...touching hands…reaching out…_

_Touching me, touching you…_

_Oh sweet Caroline, Good times never seemed so good_

_I've been inclined, to believe they never would"##_

All of the video's that tourists were now filming of the wedding in front of the fountains that were practically synchronized to the sung bridal march would either be sold to tabloids for hefty sums or become viral within minutes of posting. And Noah Puckerman had that shit bookmarked and would show it to anyone he met, beaming with pride.

They were married by their Rabbi in front of the people that they loved and cherished the most in the world. If you had told Noah Puckerman in September 2009 that he would marry Rachel Berry and have real cookies for life, he might have had to fight the urge to faint dead away or start bawling like a big, fat ass nerdy baby. He would have fought that urge and cockily assured everyone that _of course_ crazyass Berry would want to tap his hot ass for life.

And that was still true for the most part. As they greeted their many guests throughout the evening during the wedding receptions to end all wedding receptions (seriously, Vegas had never seen a party so epically awesome), Noah couldn't help but think of one thing every time a drunken Will Schuester would sloppily congratulate them.

It had been about the journey. And what a fucking fantastic one it had been.

***June 2010***

"I think that its unfair that we have to be seventeen to be camp counselors, I really wish that Rabbi Greenburg would reconsider. I'm willing to put in a call to the ACLU to see if we can't find a solution to this problem. I mean, Noah shouldn't have to work at Linens and Things. Have you see what that store does to people? Look at Mrs. Schuester!"

"Berry-pants! Calm the fuck down!"

Puck's eyes widened and he looked down to the little girl sandwiched between him and Rachel in the truck. Rachel looked shocked at little Amberlee Puckerman's language, but Puck let a slow grin spread across his face as he held up a hand for a high five.

"Out-fucking-standing, Puckerman," Noah praised.

"If we had established a swear jar when we were eleven, you would have the money to buy Vocal Adrenaline twenty-four Army tanks," Rachel muttered in annoyance.

"All right shrimp, are you okay to get home?" Puck wondered. "Ma will be home by five-thirty, but if you want, I could be at home for you."

"Noah, I'm ten. You and Rachel were wandering the streets at ten, for Christ's sake," Amberlee rolled her eyes. "Besides, I'm going to find my Noah this year at camp."

"I think you should find a Rachel instead," Puck smirked. "You're already a Noah."

"Whatever dude. See ya when I see ya," Amberlee hugged him quickly, then did the same with Rachel before climbing out over Rachel's lap and rushing towards the synagogue.

"I miss camp," Rachel said softly, as Amberlee disappeared into the building. "Last summer was okay, but camp summers were always the best."

"Yeah," Noah grinned. "We'll find new adventures this summer, Berry-pants. No worries."

"What time did Santana say we had to be at the pizza shop?" Rachel looked at the clock on Noah's dash. It was completely incorrect, as per usual.

"Uh, I think we'll make it on time. What's this mandatory bullshit about anyway?" Puck demanded.

"She's got plans and other things to work through with us. I trust that Santana has a master plan. As always," Rachel smiled.

"I hate it that you too are like, tight now. It's creepy. She's going to turn you and she's going to get that quadrangle shit she's always wanted. Fucking Mike Chang. He's going to get to be with the three of you!" Noah complained. "I don't understand why I'm not allowed in on girl on girl action."

"Mike Chang is a lovely and respectful young man. You're kind of a jerk, no offense," Rachel smiled smugly.

"If you ever let him touch your cookies, I will fucking implode, destroying all of Lima…maybe all of Ohio," Puck muttered darkly.

"Basic, Puckerman," Rachel sharply reminded him. His possessive side always inadvertently turned her on. It was a very, very bad thing.

"Right, basic. Right," Puck repeated. "Hey, Finn and Quinn are here."

"Oh?" Rachel wondered, her voice a little too innocent to be truthful.

"You're hiding something. You just used one word when the truthful Rachel would have used fifteen," Puck muttered, hopping out of the truck and going for her door.

"You're….ridiculous," Rachel scoffed.

"Again, two words where thirty would have been normal," Puck shook his head. "I'm being scammed, aren't I?"

"No! Scammed? NO!" Rachel batted her hand in the air as if dismissing his claims. Suddenly the door to the pizza shop opened and she saw herself staring at Finn and Quinn. "There's no scam!"

"Rupaul, what are you talking about? I'm post-partum, remember?" Quinn sighed. "I don't have time for your fun games. Or you know, mind-numbingly dull games."

"All I know is that Santana wanted us all here," Rachel said quickly. "I don't know what she has planned, and quite frankly, I'm worried. It could be anything…and knowing Santana it could be absolutely terrifying!"

Suddenly the screeching of tires squealed into all of the quartet's ears obnoxiously and they turned to see a huge black Cadillac Escalade hurtling around the corner of 5th and Court. It screeched to a stop and two figures in black emerged from the backseat, rushing toward a nearby comic book store.

"What in the ever loving hell?" Puck breathed.

Screams echoed throughout the previously peaceful street and the four high school students watched in shock as the two figures in black ushered a bound and gagged Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford out of the store, pushing them violently into the waiting get-away car. The tires squealed again and Rachel held her nose at the offensive smell of burnt rubber as the truck sped away, two kidnapped boys in the back.

"What in the ever loving hell?" Puck repeated.

"Mike and Matt were just…were they just kidnapped?" Quinn demanded incredulously.

"Shit, we definitely don't have enough money in the Glee budget to pay ransom!" Finn nervously asserted.

"This is…this is a horrible atrocity. Our very best dancers have just been kidnapped!" Rachel squealed in annoyance. She pushed Noah towards the truck and grabbed Finn and Quinn by the elbows, steering them towards the pickup. "We have to follow them and make sure that they're safe. For the good of the Glee club's future. For our friend's future. We have to save Matt and Mike! Noah, for the sake of our whole…world, you have to catch up to that truck!"

"DRIVE PUCK!" Quinn harshly commanded.

Puck didn't need two of the most important girls in his life telling him twice. The four of them squashed together on the bench seat of his truck. He only had to take one look into Rachel's worried, tear-filled eyes and his foot was slamming on the gas, in hot pursuit if the kidnapped Mike and Matt.

**The End?**

#######

SONG CREDIT: U2 "With or Without You" and Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline"

Will Matt and Mike survive? Who are the figures in black? How do Puck and Rachel go from sort of pseudo-dating Quinn and Finn (Respectively) and keeping things _basic_ to a fabulous Las Vegas wedding? And seriously, do Puck and Finn dress in drag?

All of these questions and more will be answered MONDAY in the first installment of

**Fuickleberry Saves the World: The Dramatic and Badass Rescue of Mike Chang and Matt Rutherford!**


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